


Possession

by DuschaPendragon



Series: The Thirteen Tales [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Drug Use, Flashbacks, Humiliation, Multi, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Rape, Supernatural Elements, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 43
Words: 57,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuschaPendragon/pseuds/DuschaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ramsay and his gang murder his girlfriend, Jeyne, they think they have gotten away with it. Ramsay's father took care of it, he is the town coroner. The girl had a bad background, prone to depression. Suicide was almost inevitable. But there are some that refuse to believe it and the gang soon discover there is something more sinister at play. She's watching. She's waiting. She wants their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another horror film inspired piece. This story is sort of inspired by the new movie 'Another Me' (which I am super excited to see!). Where that story focuses more on identity, this story will focus on possession. Whether it be something someone owns, or a far more dark and dangerous kind of possession.

Neither the service nor the weather could have been more dismal. The group of teenagers trudged along the path through the Godswood, a few feet behind the others. Finally, the gateway leading to the car park appeared ahead of them. At last. Freedom. Ramsay was relieved. But before he and his friends managed to escape, their headmistress swooped in, blocking their path. Ramsay could’ve killed her. “I am so sorry for your loss Ramsay.” Miss Hornwood said, her face pale.  
“You have my thanks Miss.” Ramsay replied, trying to step around her, but the bitch blocked his path.  
“You were all friends with Jeyne were you not? I often saw you all together at lunch time.” Miss Hornwood continued.  
“Yes. Jeyne and I were friends.” Ramsay tried to step around her again.  
“You were more than friends weren’t you Ramsay?” The nosy bitch asked.  
“Yes. I loved Jeyne, with all my heart. That obviously wasn’t enough.” Ramsay put on his best devastated-boyfriend mask.  
“Don’t blame yourself Ramsay. The girl had a troubled past. Truth be told, I don’t know what possessed Mrs Barbrey to leave her home alone for a week.” Miss Hornwood glanced over at Barbrey Dustin, who seemed to sense her gaze. She looked over to them, her eyes growing cold at the sight of Ramsay and his gang. Ramsay looked away. “If you’ll excuse me, Miss Hornwood, we are going to skip the wake. Jeyne was never one for parties, it feels wrong to mourn her passing by attending one.” Ramsay bowed his head and sensed Myranda try to suppress a chuckle beside him.  
“Yes, of course. If there is anything any of you need, you know where my office is.” She said before walking away to talk to another gang of solemn faced students. Ramsay and his gang watched her go with nothing but relief. “Can we go now?” Myranda hissed, gasping for a cigarette.  
“Yes, our duty is done.” Ramsay’s tone was almost mocking but he smiled at her.  
“Thank fuck for that.” Muttered Damon, kicking a stone so that it hit a nearby school girl. Ramsay didn’t reply, distracted by a face he spotted across the other side of the car park that made his blood run cold. “Wait for me, I’ll be back in a second.” Ramsay growled. His friends understood once they knew where he was heading. Ramsay nodded his thanks to every “I’m sorry for your loss Ramsay” and “we are here if you need us Ramsay” but he never took his eyes off of his father. Roose Bolton leaned casually against his black Bentley, watching his son approach. Ramsay dared not meet his gaze once he reached him. “You played your part well enough I trust?” Roose Bolton asked, eyeing the crowd to see if anyone was watching them.  
“No one knows father. I told you, we took care of it. We…”  
“I don’t want to know Ramsay. I examined the body myself. That was all I needed to know.” The cold voice cut through Ramsay like ice. But he still managed to smirk at the mention of what her body had looked like. “Do not smile. Not here. Not now. And not in front of me.” Ramsay’s smile dropped instantly.  
“Did you bring him?” Ramsay asked after a moments silence.  
“Yes, he’s in the back.” Roose replied, indicating slightly with his head.  
“I still think he should have stayed at home. I could have come back to get him.” Ramsay eyed the blacked out windows.  
“He needs to be seen.” Roose did not raise his voice, but Ramsay still recognised the danger in it. Ramsay went and opened one of the doors to the back seat, expecting a stench to greet him. There was none. He peered inside and took a look at his pet. “What the fuck did you do?” Ramsay screeched angrily, turning a few heads.  
“These people would have thought the dead had risen the way he smelled and dressed. The maids washed and dressed him.” Roose smiled a little as his son began to tremble with rage.  
“Reek is mine! You had no right to…”  
 “I had every right. You both do as I say. You both answer to me. Is that understood Ramsay?” Ramsay said nothing, Roose stepped closer, lowering his voice even further. “These people must believe the picture we paint them. If they see the sketch underneath I will not be able to save your bastard arse like I did. Now go, and don’t even think of returning home until the scent of whatever it is you smoke is off of you.” Roose moved away to get into the driver’s seat.  
“Come on out Reek.” Ramsay ordered. The creature moved so quickly to obey that he fell out of the car. Ramsay would have laughed at him had he been in a better mood. Instead, he grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up straight and waited until his father had driven away. “You say nothing to anyone, do you understand me Reek? You don’t look at anyone. You won’t say anything, will you?” Ramsay growled. Reek looked up at him through terrified eyes. “No Master.” He muttered. Ramsay let go of him and frowned. His pet looked so sad, he even dared to look around at the mourners. “Is there something wrong Reek? Are you upset about something?” Ramsay’s voice was dangerously low and Reek snapped his head around at the tone.  
“N-No Master. You are the only one I care for.” He replied. Ramsay smiled a little. “That’s right Reek. Only me. Now let’s get out of here. I’m sick of weeping women.” Ramsay threw his arm around Reeks shoulders and began to lead him through the crowds. Heads turned and watched. Everyone knew that Reek had known Jeyne long before she had moved here, but no one knew how much they had been through. Both the boy and the girl had been complete mysteries; mysteries that Roose Bolton had most kindly taken care of; Reek stayed with them and Jeyne had been fostered by Barbrey Dustin . Ramsay played his role of a grieving boyfriend perfectly, whilst Reek said not a word; keeping his eyes on Ramsay the entire time. “Ready?” Skinner asked when they got closer.  
“Yeah, let’s get out of this shithole.” Ramsay replied. They said goodbye to no one. They just disappeared from the crowd, heading towards the woods. The moment they were sure that no one could see them, Ramsay hooked his arm around Myranda’s shoulder casually. She rested her head on his shoulder. “What’s up with you?” Ramsay asked, surprised by the action that seemed so out of character.  
“Nothing, I’m just tired.” She replied, not moving her head.  
“Ramsay wore you out last night did he?” Sour Alyn sniggered.  
“You’d better wake up Myranda. We’ve got one good long night ahead of us!” Damon laughed. The gang of boys ran off ahead of them towards their den in the woods. Myranda and Ramsay continued to walk together, with Reek shuffling along behind them. “Mrs Dustin kept looking at us throughout the whole thing.” Myranda muttered sourly.  
“Ignore the old bitch. She’s never liked me.” Ramsay replied.  
“I bet she thinks it was all down to me. I’m the new one in the group. She should know Jeyne better than any of us. What if she suspects me?” Myranda stopped to voice her concerns.  
“The woman wasn’t even there! She can’t accuse us of anything. She left Jeyne to go on holiday. If she were to try and blame us everyone would think she was just doing it to feel less guilty. What are you worrying about all this for anyway? I told you my father would take care of this. Now, Reek, did you bring what I asked you to bring?” Ramsay turned to his pet.  
“Yes, of course Master.” Reek felt around in his pocket and withdraw a small pouch filled with pills. Ramsay opened it and held it out towards Myranda. “You first my Lady.” He said, smiling wickedly. She returned his smile and dipped her finger into the bag.

***

_“I will be back on Sunday evening. Are you sure you are going to be ok?” Barbrey asked her for the sixteenth time._   
_“I will be fine don’t worry! Just stay focused on work.” Jeyne replied, smiling warmly._   
_“Ok, I’ve stocked the fridge so that you won’t go short on food. I also got some cider in case you want to have friends over. But NO house parties. You can just ring Wyman or Roose if you need anything. And don’t forget to put the bins out tomorrow evening.” Jeyne could never tell if Barbrey had forgotten that she’d already told Jeyne all this or if she was just doing it because she was panicking._   
_“Look, just go! Don’t worry about me. I don’t have enough friends to have a house party!” Jeyne joked._   
_“Don’t be silly Jeyne, you have plenty of friends. Although I do wish they were more…sensible.” The woman’s voice returned to the same tone she always used when Jeyne’s group of friends came into the conversation._   
_“How many times have I told you Barbrey? There is nothing wrong with them!” Jeyne protested quietly._   
_“Just don’t let them push you into doing anything that you are uncomfortable with. And I don’t want that boy staying around overnight, do you understand me?” Barbrey’s voice was stern, tinged with distain at the mention of Ramsay._   
_“There is nothing wrong with Ramsay. He’s a good guy, and he and Roose have done so much for me.” Jeyne’s repeated the words that seemed to be engraved on her brain._   
_“All the same, I don’t want him staying around.” Barbrey wrinkled her nose._   
_“Look, you are going to miss your ferry. It will take you at least an hour to reach White Harbour, you won’t even get to Essos if you stand here lecturing me!” Jeyne picked up one of the suitcases and dumped it in the boot of the car._   
_“Oh alright! I’ll call you when I reach White Harbour…”_   
_“And again when you reach Essos?” Jeyne finished._   
_“Yes, you know me too well Jeyne Poole.” Barbrey gave her a quick peck on the cheek before hopping into her car. Jeyne stayed on the driveway until the car was out of sight. As soon as it was gone, she pulled out her mobile phone from her pocket and dialled his number. “She’s gone.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay's gang have their own party in the woods.

The world span in a thousand different colours around them, and they were all laughing uncontrollably, though at what they could not say. It may have been at Reek falling over a tree root, or it may have been a joke Damon made. Either way, Skinner looked as though he were about to piss himself and Damon and Ben had to lean back to back where they were sitting, just to stay upright. Ramsay was laying on a bed of rotten leaves, staring up at the cloudy night sky above him. Myranda lay beside him. “It’s so beautiful.” Myranda breathed, reaching her hand out to try and touch a cloud. Ramsay grabbed it and pulled it back down to earth. “Not as beautiful as you.” He sighed back. Myranda hit him and started to laugh again. “Watch out boys! Those pills have made his head soft!” Myranda squealed. The other boys laughed, all except for Reek who crouched beneath the large Weirwood tree that watched them. Judged them. It had seen much that Weirwood. “Soft? No, my head is hard actually.” Ramsay smiled at Myranda and raised an eyebrow in invitation.  
“Oh, are you?” Myranda replied, clumsily climbing on top of him. Slowly, she began to work her hips back and forth, causing her skirt to ride up, exposing her upper thighs. Ramsay slid his hand further up the skirt, tracing the edge of her nickers. “I think it’s time we went back to mine.” He moaned. Myranda smiled knowingly and got off of him, not pausing to readjust her skirt. She held out her hand and tried to help pulling him up. Hand in hand, they began to walk away. “Hold on, I need a piss first.” Ramsay slurred.  
“Ever the romantic.” Joked Sour Alyn.  
“Well the last girl never complained.” Ramsay smiled cruelly.  
“Oh, I beg to differ, she had plenty to complain about when I had a go.” Damon said. They all laughed wickedly as Ramsay stumbled off a little way into the woods. He continued laughing as he unzipped his flies. A slight breeze picked up and the voices behind him seemed to die away. Somewhere behind him, a twig snapped beneath a foot. “Myranda?” He called out. The world seemed to spin around him and trees grew their own doubles. The breeze sounded more like a sigh, a gasp of pain. Or a gasp of pleasure. Ramsay couldn’t say. The sigh seemed to turn into words, words he couldn’t understand. He couldn’t make sense of them. Ramsay shook his head violently. The words seemed to echo in his ears, clashing around his head. He tried to turn but found he couldn’t balance properly and came crashing onto the ground. “Ah, fuck.” He gasped, finally able to shake the sounds from his head. He heard another twig snap as someone moved through the undergrowth towards him. “Who is that?” He yelled. He spotted a figure moving towards him. He struggled to stand up; his drunken mind not allowing him to focus. “M-Master?” Reek stood in front of him, wringing is fingers together and eyeing him nervously. “Reek, what the fuck were you doing?” Ramsay cried, still unable to stand up.  
“You were taking a long time Master, Myranda sent me to make sure you were alright.” The creature mumbled, dipping his head repeatedly as though he had some sort of twitch. Ramsay finally managed to stand up and threw himself towards his pet. Somehow, Reek managed to remain standing whilst his master clutched to him. “I should punish you for that pet, for following someone else’s order.” Ramsay smiled as he began to feel Reek tremble, whether it was due to trying to hold up his weight or if he was afraid Ramsay could not say. He hoped it was the last one. “Now come Reek. We have a long night ahead.”  
“W-We…Master?” Reek stumbled nervously over his words.  
“Yes Reek. Myranda takes a lot to please. A man can’t do it alone.” Ramsay slapped Reek so hard on the back he thought he heard a bone crack. Reek squeaked before following Ramsay through the undergrowth. As he was moving away, a breeze picked up, sending the trees singing _._ Reek didn’t like their song. He felt as though he knew it, but he couldn’t recognise it. He span around, to look for what he could not say, and began to shiver. “Reek! For fuck’s sake! Did you not just hear what awaits for us both at home?” Ramsay yelled.  
“Sorry Master, please…” He took one last look behind him. “Forgive me.” Reek scurried after him.

_***_

_She smiled shyly to herself when the knock at the door came. She stood up a little shakily and went and opened the door. He stood leaning casually against the door frame, and raised his head to look at her. He smiled his lopsided smile. “So she’s gone has she?” Ramsay asked, removing the fag from between his lips._  
“Yes.” Said Jeyne. “She is on her way to White Harbour, she won’t be back for a week!” Jeyne squealed a little, earning a disapproving glance. “I’m sorry, come in.” She opened the door a little wider. Ramsay threw the fag onto the driveway and stepped inside. Jeyne closed the door behind him and watched him as he moved around the kitchen, taking it all in. “I always wondered what it looked like in here.” Ramsay said, continuing his inspection.   
“Well now you know.” Jeyne replied, smiling.  
“Yes, I do.” He turned to look at her. “You look…nervous.” He pointed out.  
“Oh.” She had been hoping that he would say nice. “Um, what do you want to do?” She asked.  
“We could go for a walk?” He suggested, though there was no questioning it.  
“Sure, where do you want to go?” She asked, collecting her hooded green jumper, layering it with her customary denim jacket.   
“The woods.” Ramsay didn’t suggest this time. It was an order. “Ok.” Jeyne said, despite knowing it did not matter whether she wanted to go or not. She quickly went to the back door and locked it then grabbed her keys and her phone. “Are you expecting a call?” Ramsay asked.  
“Um…yeah…Barbrey said she’d call me once she reached White Harbour. She’ll only panic if I don’t pick up.” Jeyne tried to sound light hearted. She could tell that Ramsay wasn’t in one of his best moods today and that put her on edge. “Ok.” Ramsay said, completely uninterested. Jeyne hurried after him out of the door, being sure to lock it behind her. “Are we going to meet up with the guys in the woods?” Jeyne asked, trying her best to sound casual.  
“Yeah, and Myranda is going to be there too.” He said, hooking his arm around her.  
“Myranda? As in, new girl Myranda?”   
“Yes.” Ramsay’s voice was flat. Dangerous. “Cool.” Jeyne said, deciding to focus more on the fact that he had his arm around her. He didn’t usually show so much affection. “He is feeling nice today. That’s good.” She convinced herself. She hoped that the good mood would last. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Ramsay seems pretty tame at the moment. He will get a lot worse. Let me know what you think of the story so far!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay, Myranda and Reek return home to continue their celebrations. Jeyne gets a phone call.

Reek followed his Master and Myranda as they stumbled home. They were making a lot of noise as Ramsay fumbled with his keys to the front door. Reek feared that it would be too much noise. That Ramsay’s father would hear. He wouldn’t just punish Ramsay, Reek would be punished as well. That always upset Ramsay the most. No doubt Roose would take advantage of their female companion too. Reek was relieved when they entered the house and Ramsay and Myranda quietened down, Ramsay even used the torch on his phone to make sure that they didn’t bump into anything. He didn’t think to wait for his pet though. Reek continued to be shrouded in darkness as he tried to make his way across the room. To his horror, he bumped into one of the dining room chairs, sending it crashing to the floor. Ramsay span around, the drug haze lifting from his head. Reek saw the anger clearly in his Master’s eyes. “Reek, what are you doing? Do you want to be beaten?” Ramsay spat. Reek went onto his hands and knees and crawled over to Ramsay. “I’m sorry Master. Please forgive your Reek, please…” Theon begged, rubbing his face up and down Ramsay’s trouser leg as a sign of affection. For once, Myranda did Reek a favour. “Come on Ramsay.” She grabbed his hand and tugged at him, dragging his attention away from Reek. Ramsay hesitated for a moment, unsure which was more appealing; Sex with Myranda or punishing Reek? Then Ramsay had an idea. Smiling wickedly at Myranda, Ramsay said “Come on Reek. Let’s go teach you a lesson.” Reek whimpered in reply.Myranda smiled down at him, her wicked smile mirrored Ramsay’s.

_“Would suffocating be a pleasant way to die?”_ Reek wondered as Myranda moved her hips back and forth over Reek’s mouth. She seemed to be deaf and blind to any protest he made, or any attempt he made to take a breath. Ramsay watched them from his work chair, smiling. “Is that better Myranda?” Ramsay asked.  
“Oh yes!” She cried as she climaxed. Yet she did not stop. Reek clutched at the bed sheets desperately, trying to let them know he couldn’t breathe. To his relief, Ramsay had grown tired of sharing. “That’s enough Myranda. I was only letting you borrow him.” His tone was annoyed, but Myranda laughed it off and clambered off of Reek, who sat up, gasping. She sauntered over to Ramsay, planting herself on his lap. “I’m ready now.” She whispered in his ear. He grinned back at her, then turned his focus to Reek. “I’m not.” He muttered. He pushed Myranda, not ungently, off of his lap. She sat down in his chair and watched. She could wait. She would be entertained until her turn came. Ramsay towered over his creature who cowered on the bed. “Help me get these clothes off Reek.” Ramsay ordered. Reek followed the order without hesitation; unbuttoning the black shirt and pulling it off, as gently as he could. He folded it up neatly before moving onto Ramsay’s jeans. To his relief, Ramsay made no movement to do anything as he unzipped and pulled down Ramsay’s trousers. Ramsay kicked them away. “Boxers too Reek.” He ordered. Reek nodded and pulled them down. He flinched as he felt Ramsay’s hand brush across his matted hair, waiting for him to grab it roughly. But his hand never tightened. “Go put the clothes in a pile over there Reek.” Ramsay pointed to the desk. Reek dared not to question it. He half walked, half crawled over to the desk. Ramsay gave Myranda a quick wicked smile before striding after his pet. Reek didn’t even realise his master was there before his head hit the table. “I told you I was going to teach you a lesson, didn’t I?” Ramsay snarled, tearing down Reek’s trousers. Reek let out a wail. “Please Master! I didn’t mean to make so much noise! Please!” He cried into the wood.  
“No, you didn’t mean to make so much noise then. But you are going to make plenty of noise now. Let your master know that you enjoy it Reek. Don’t stop screaming.” Ramsay growled.  
“Of course Master.” Reek whined. Ramsay forced himself into Reek so hard that the scream Reek made didn’t have to be faked. He howled in agony at every thrust, his throat soon growing hoarse. Ramsay smiled as the screams deafened him. “Good job we had the room soundproofed, isn’t it my pet?” He laughed. Myranda laughed with him, still sitting on the chair as naked as her name day. With Reek’s high pitched screams and Ramsay and Myranda’s laughter, the footsteps from the landing were not heard before it was too late. Before Ramsay even had time to pull himself out of his pet, Roose Bolton opened the bedroom door.

***

_The rest of the gang were already lounging around drinking by the time Ramsay and Jeyne reached the den. Ben was a little way off with one of his dogs, Skinner and Sour Alyn sat beneath the Weirwood drinking beer. Damon was laying on the ground, his stomach acting as a cushion for Myranda’s head. He had also started on the beer. Myranda on the other hand drank vodka, straight from the bottle. They all sat up to attention when they spotted Ramsay and Jeyne approaching. Myranda paused the music that was blaring from her phone. “Hey Ramsay!” Damon yelled._  
“Alright?” Ramsay asked. The gang nodded, smiling at him. “Hey guys.” Jeyne said quietly. They grunted in reply. Jeyne looked around the den in vain. “Is…um…Reek not joining us?” She asked Ramsay nervously.  
“No. He’s busy.” Ramsay replied bluntly.  
“Here Ramsay, try some of this!” Myranda held out the bottle of vodka for him to try. She smiled as he grimaced. “What? Too strong for you?” She asked. The gang laughed. “Yeah, you keep it.” Ramsay grinned, passing it back to her.   
“Jeyne, do you want to try a bit?” Myranda asked. The boys looked to each other, a secret joke passing between them. Jeyne’s cheeks burned red. “No…thanks. I don’t like vodka.” Jeyne stuttered, trying to hide her red face behind her brown hair. The boys failed to suppress their laughter. Myranda shot each of them a dirty look from Myranda. “That’s ok Jeyne, all the more for me!” She laughed. Jeyne laughed quietly and went and sat down next to Ramsay. Myranda smiled sweetly over at her. She knew little of Myranda. The girl had only just moved to the village, but she had struck a chord with the group, fitting right in. No doubt the boys each wished for her to be more than a friend. She was beautiful, Jeyne couldn’t deny that. She also couldn’t deny that she felt slightly threatened by the mystery girl. She was so confident and self-assured. She was one of the guys and an object of desire for them all at once. Jeyne couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy each time Ramsay laughed at something Myranda said or did, or when they shared a secret smile. Jeyne tried to tell herself that she was being stupid. Ramsay loved her. He had said so, hadn’t he? And tonight they would get to prove their love for each other, now that Barbrey was out of the way. “What were you listening too?” Ramsay asked Myranda, pointing to her phone.  
“Can you feel my heart by Bring Me the Horizon.” Myranda replied. “We can change it though, I’ve heard it enough times.” She finished, laughing her sweet laugh.  
“Can I put something on?” Jeyne asked tentatively.  
“Sure!” Myranda said, smiling. Jeyne smiled back and reached for her mobile phone, but before she could pull it out, Ramsay grabbed hold of her wrist. “As long as it’s not that ‘You Haunt Me’ shit again.” He growled. Jeyne went pale. “You Haunt Me? The one by that Richard Hawley guy?” Myranda asked incredulously.  
“Yeah.” Jeyne muttered. Myranda made a face. Jeyne was saved from further humiliation however when her phone began to ring. “I better get that, it’ll be Barbrey.” She said, standing up and moving away from the group. But when she looked at the screen of her phone, she found that it wasn’t a number she recognised. Nervously, she held the phone to her ear. “Hello?” She said.  
“Jeyne? Jeyne, is that you?” Came a familiar voice.  
“Yes…um…may I ask who’s speaking?”  
“It’s your friend, Sansa. Sansa Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know, 'You Haunt Me' is like the theme song for Another Me, but it's a cover of Richard Hawley's original.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a long time, Roose Bolton said nothing. His icy gaze flicked from Ramsay to Reek to Myranda. The prolonged silence only served to make the teenagers more terrified. Finally, his eyes rested on Myranda.

For a long time, Roose Bolton said nothing. His icy gaze flicked from Ramsay to Reek to Myranda. The prolonged silence only served to make the teenagers more terrified. Finally, his eyes rested on Myranda. “I think it’s about time you left.” He said. Myranda said nothing. Quickly pulling on her clothes, she fled from the room. “Whore.” Roose muttered, just loud enough for her to hear as she passed him. The silence continued until they heard the front door slam shut. “Put some trousers on. Leave your pet here and come and meet me in my room.” Roose ordered. Ramsay hurriedly pulled himself from Reek and put his jeans back on. “Your room? Don’t you mean the basement?” He asked, confused.  
“You know exactly which room I mean.” Roose purred. Ramsay shivered as his father turned and left. He swallowed nervously. “Stay in here Reek.” He ordered before following his father from the room. He felt suddenly cold and began to shake. A little way along the landing, Roose Bolton stopped and turned to his son. “You first.” He said. Ramsay tried not to look fearful as he descended the stairs, continuing down past the ground floor, his father’s footsteps echoed behind him. Ramsay hesitated before opening the door to his father’s…special room. “Please, father. We didn’t mean to…” He protested. Roose shoved him forward sharply, not uttering a word. Step by terrified step, Ramsay allowed his father to herd him into the dark room.

Myranda might have feared for Ramsay if she were not so scared herself. She had not spent much time with Mr Bolton, but she knew Ramsay was afraid of his father. He had never said so out loud of course, but he was always careful not to do anything his father would be annoyed by. That was enough to prove that Ramsay was scared of him, because if it were anyone else he wouldn’t give a shit. That thought made Myranda smile as she walked through the tunnel beneath the motorway. She had thought him probably the nicest and most sensible of the group. The most boring, if truth be told. But the more she got to know him, the more she realised that that was far from the truth. It had all been an act, most probably demanded of him by his father. There was no perfect school record, no squeaky clean criminal record. The perfect boyfriend had turned out to be a façade too. That thought made Myranda’s smile stretch further across her face.  
She was still wearing it by the time she reached the block of shoddy flats that she had to call home. She relived every moment of the night of Jeyne’s death; recalling it as though it were yesterday. All thoughts of Roose and Ramsay had disappeared by the time she had reached the lift and pressed the button that would take her to the sixth floor. Hardly anyone used the lift, preferring to take the stairs due to how unreliable it could be. But the thought of getting stuck in the lift didn’t bother her. It had served her well enough so far. It behaved itself this time too. In a matter of minutes, Myranda had left the lift behind and had her key in the door. She could hear the TV was still on, but there were no human voices. Myranda headed towards the lounge which led to her room. She spotted her mother in the spot that she was usually in at this hour; passed out on the sofa, one empty bottle of wine on the coffee table and a half-empty bottle of vodka still in her hand. Myranda pulled it free from her clutches. For a moment, she considered throwing a blanket over her, then decided against it. She carried on through the lounge and into her bedroom, drinking the vodka as she went.

_***_

_Jeyne froze. She didn’t know whether to speak or scream for joy. Sansa had called her. Her best friend since childhood whom she had been separated from and hadn’t heard from for months, or was it years? Finally she spoke, although she wasn’t sure if Sansa would be able to understand her through her blubbering. “Sansa? Is it really you?” She cried._   
_“Yeah, I can’t believe I’ve managed to reach you. I’ve been trying for so long.” Sansa sounded tearful at the other end. Jeyne took a moment just to weep for joy. “Where…I mean, how…”_   
_“I can’t really tell you anything. Not on the phone anyway. But I’m ok. I’m safe. How are you?” Sansa asked._   
_“I’m fine, really, I’m good. What about you?”_   
_“I’m better, now I’ve reached you.” Sansa laughed. Jeyne heard some movement down the other end of the phone, then a man’s voice. “Listen Jeyne, I have to go. I’ll text you later, yeah?”_   
_“Yeah sure. I still can’t believe it’s you.” Jeyne breathed._   
_“I know. I’ll talk to you later. Bye!” Sansa hung up. Jeyne was too elated to wonder why Sansa had rushed to end the call. She turned back to the gang, her eyes red with tears, a smile dancing on her lips. No one seemed to notice. “Who was that?” Ramsay asked when she sat back down next to him._   
_“It was just an old friend.” She answered, still unable to stop smiling._   
_“A friend?” Ramsay probed, fixing her with a cold stare. Something made Jeyne not want to tell him. She wanted to keep Sansa to herself. “Yeah, a friend.” She replied, looking away. She could still feel his gaze on her; his cold eyes made her want to shiver. “On second thought’s Myranda, I will have some of that vodka.” Said Ramsay, snatching up the bottle._

_By the time she finally convinced Ramsay that they should leave, it was almost dark and Ramsay had to lean on her to stagger back to her house. The magic from Sansa’s call had been diminished with every bottle of beer that Ramsay consumed. At first, as they travelled slowly home, she had been heading for his house. But Ramsay had refused, saying he wanted to be with her. She wasn’t sure if that was entirely a good thing. Either way, she agreed, not wanting to start an argument. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.” She said as they entered the house.  
“I’m not going alone.” Ramsay slurred, smiling a dopy version of his usual lopsided smile. She blushed, but he didn’t notice. Instead, he leant in, pressing his lips to hers. Gradually, the kiss became rougher, more heated. Jeyne pulled away as Ramsay tried to pull off her denim jacket. “What are you doing?” She asked.  
“Come on, we said we were going to do this as soon as the old hag had gone.” Ramsay replied, leaning in again.  
“Yeah, but that was before you…” Jeyne broke off as she sensed his anger grow.  
“Before I what?” He growled. Jeyne held her breath, dropping her head in submission. “It…um…it doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s go.” She tried to sound excited. She tried to look happy. Ramsay followed her, stumbling up the stairs. Once he had gotten over that hurdle, he grabbed her around the waist, nuzzling her neck hungrily. The moment she directed him towards her room, he began to tear the clothes off of her. “Ramsay, slow down!” Jeyne tried to cry, but they only came out as a whisper. She managed to turn around, a silent plea in her eyes. The look made Ramsay stop. He reached his hand up and touched her face. “You want this, don’t you Jeyne? You want me, don’t you?” He asked.  
“Yes.” Jeyne breathed, glad that he had finally paused the rapid disrobing. “_ Though not like this.” _She thought, inhaling the scent of alcohol on his breath. Ramsay smiled at her. He pulled off his t-shirt and threw it into the corner. Jeyne, gently, helped him with his trousers and he pulled the dress off over her head. Her skin was covered in goose pimples. The room was cold. Ramsay didn’t seem to notice. He pushed her roughly back onto the bed, and climbed on top of her. It wasn’t the way Jeyne had hoped it would go. She had imagined it being romantic. Slow. That they would take time on each other, like two newlyweds at their bedding. She was no stranger to sex. This was not her first time. But it was the first time she had done it with someone she loved.  
_ “I have to try.” _She thought._  
 _She began to move her hips in time with his as he plunged into her. She wrapped her legs around him and tugged at his hair. It began to feel a little better. Ramsay reached and grabbed a lock of her own brown hair. And pulled. He pulled so hard that it made her gasp and then cry out in pain. This only seemed to encourage Ramsay to thrust harder._

_It both annoyed her and upset her that she was relieved when it was over. She looked across the bed at Ramsay, who lay asleep on the bed, not even under the covers. “Why couldn’t you have been perfect?” She dared herself to whisper. She had been waiting so long for this day to come. She thought it would be magical. Now it just felt ruined. She pushed the tears away angrily and stood up from the bed. She looked over at the messy pile of clothes and noticed her phone had fallen out of her pocket. It buzzed as she received a text message. She picked it up and read it._

It was great to talk to you today. Sorry I didn’t have more time to chat.  
I’ve really missed you.  
Sansa xx

_Jeyne smiled down at her screen. Maybe her day hadn’t been ruined after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the intro, I couldn't think of a good one :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay's in a bad mood. Myranda is falsely accused. Jeyne's week with Ramsay goes from bad to worse.

Ramsay gritted his teeth to stop himself from wincing. With each step, the back of his jeans and the back of his school shirt reluctantly peeled away from the slowly healing flesh below. The marks from the whip had dug deep into his flesh. They had stopped bleeding, but wept instead. “Keep up Reek.” He growled angrily as the school building rose up in front of them. “Sorry Master.” Reek replied, struggling with the weight of the bags. Ramsay lit a cigarette and tried to walk normally, without limping. He cried out when Skinner and Damon jumped out from behind a bush and tried to tackle him. “Ow! Get the fuck off!” He yelled, pushing them both away.  
“Whoa, someone didn’t get much sleep last night.” Damon jested, though his laughter died with a look from Ramsay.  
“Where’s Myranda?” Skinner asked, looking around.  
“How the fuck should I know?” Ramsay growled.  
“Well you were the one fucking her.” Damon pointed out.  
“We never got around to it.” Ramsay spat, his mood darkening with every step, but his friends were too curious to notice.  
“What do you mean you never got round to it?” Skinner cried.  
“Aww, did you spoon instead? Or did you make sure there was always room for all of The Seven to fit between you?” Damon laughed, as did Skinner.  
“Will you both just shut the fuck up?” Ramsay yelled, shoving Damon out into the road. He leapt out of the way of a car just in time. “Alright, keep your chastity belt on.” Damon spat.  
“So, what did happen?” Skinner asked, ignoring Damon’s joke. Ramsay brought his cigarette up to his lips. “Dad.” He muttered. The boy’s walked the rest of the way in silence.

Myranda swallowed the pain killers as the lift made its descent. She was late. Again. Not her fault her mother was so fucking useless. Yet Miss Hornwood would want a word with her all the same. Finally, the lift grinded to a halt and she hurried out into the damp morning air. “Oi!” Came a voice from behind her. Myranda kept walking. “Oi you!” Came the voice again. She continued walking. It was most likely they were yelling at someone else. All people seemed to do around her home was yell at each other. “Oi! I’m talking to you, you fuckin’ whore!” The voice boomed. Myranda span around. “You yelling at me?” She shouted back.  
“Yeah, I got a bone to pick with you ‘aven’t I?” The woman stormed towards her in a dressing gown and slippers, a fag in her hand. She can’t have been older than thirty. Myranda had seen her on a few occasions, she lived a few floors below her. Violet, was that her name? “And what bone might that be?” Myranda asked angrily.  
“What you making so much noise for at two o’clock in the mornin’? I got kids that need to sleep!” The woman growled.  
“I wasn’t making any noise. I took the lift straight up to my flat. I never even passed your door!” Myranda growled back.  
“Don’t think you can lie to me bitch! You came up the stairs singing at the top of your lungs. Don’t pretend you don’t know this either! I opened my door and told you to shut your hole. You saw me and carried on singing. Your mum ought to teach you some manners!” Violet yelled.  
“I’m not lying! Whoever you saw, it weren’t me! I always take the lift. And feel free to teach my mum some manners, ‘cause she sure hasn’t got any.” With a dramatic flick of her hair, Myranda strolled away. “Oh, and one more thing,” She turned back to Violet “you shouldn’t go calling someone a whore when you don’t even know who the father of your children is.” Myranda smiled wickedly as the woman’s jaw dropped. She continued to strut away, ignoring the insults the woman threw at her.

Ramsay waited beneath the bike shelter and lit another cigarette. Reek he had sent to class. “It has to look like staying with us is helping him. Otherwise he will be taken away.” His father had said the first time he had caught Ramsay playing with his new toy. Not that he wanted to think about his father right now. Last night had not been the first time he had been taken down to his father’s secret room, but it had been different. The way his father had ordered him to lead the way down there, it was one thing to be led into danger, quite another to lead himself into it. Then came the beating. Usually, his father would perhaps flay a piece of skin, small enough for him to bandage up or hide inconspicuously. But last night he had lashed him with the whip; the marks covered the back of him so he had to wear a long sleeved shirt, covered with his school blazer (which he loathed wearing) in case they began to bleed again and the blood showed through the fabric. His father had never been so angered by him making noise before. He had just been having a bit of fun, and his room was soundproofed. Whatever sounds his father had heard, they can’t have been incredibly loud.  
Ramsay’s thoughts were interrupted when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and spotted Myranda in the distance, walking along the path towards the school building. “Myranda! Hey!” He called. But she had her headphones in and carried on walking past. Ramsay stamped out his fag and started off across the grass to catch up with her. “Oi! Ramsay!” Came a voice from behind him. Ramsay span around and frowned as Myranda threw her bag over the fence. He looked over his shoulder at the brunette whom he had mistaken as Myranda. He shrugged. Too many brunettes. Ramsay began to walk towards Myranda who was by now half way over the fence, not bothering to adjust the tight body con skirt that rode up dangerously high as she swung her leg over. “Why are you climbing over the fence?” Ramsay asked.  
“I’m late again, school gates close at nine.” She muttered. “Come on, we better get to form. Miss Hornwood is going to want to speak with me again.” She mumbled. Ramsay considered putting his arm around her shoulders, then he remembered. Too soon. “You alright?” He asked, almost awkwardly.  
“Yeah, except for my bitch of a neighbour. She came out this morning yelling at me because apparently I was making too much noise on the stairwell last night. It’s bullshit. Everyone knows I take the elevator.” She growled. Ramsay didn’t reply. He could never be bothered when girls began to bitch about someone. Myranda realised this. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get the bitch back for it.” She smiled cruelly. That put a smile back on Ramsay’s face. “I don’t doubt you will.” He smiled back.  
“So, are you alright?” She asked, with the same awkwardness Ramsay had when he’d asked the question. He shrugged in reply and they carried on the walk to form; unsaid words hung in the air as rain began to fall.

_***_

_Jeyne sat up in bed suddenly, though she was unsure what woke her. The sky was only just starting to lighten, and Ramsay was still sleeping deeply beside her. Perhaps her phone had gone off? She reached across to check it. Dread and fear hit her at once as she realised that it wasn’t her phone that woke her, but the unusual stickiness between her legs. Slowly, longing for it to be her imagination, she lifted the sheets. The blood was there, spreading across the sheets. She bit her lip and looked over at Ramsay. She couldn’t wake him. He would be furious once he learned why. He would be disgusted. He wouldn’t understand. To be honest, she didn’t fully understand it herself. Her period wasn’t due for another week at least, yet here it was, determined to ruin her week with Ramsay. She wanted to cry. But that might wake Ramsay. Instead, she got up and hurriedly put a pair of nickers and pad on. Then she slipped back into bed, trying to ignore the blood on the sheets that stuck to her thighs. It would have to do until morning. Then she would be able to explain._

_When morning came, she dressed quickly so that Ramsay wouldn’t see anything before she had a chance to explain. She quickly pulled on her gym trousers and a t-shirt. Ramsay remained in bed, texting and laughing at the texts he received. She didn’t dare to ask him who it was. He always got angry when she invaded his privacy. “Do you want some breakfast?” She asked._   
_“What? Oh…sure.” He replied, not looking up from his phone. He didn’t look as though he was going to move either. She hurried downstairs and made toast as well as coffee. Still Ramsay did not come down from upstairs so she took it up to him instead. When she reached her room however, the sight that greeted her almost made her drop the tray. Ramsay was standing, half dressed, the bed covers pulled back, revealing the red blood stain beneath. Jeyne felt the blood drain from her face as Ramsay looked at her questioningly. “Is there something you need to tell me Jeyne?” He asked quietly._   
_“I…um…”_   
_“Spit it out.” He growled._   
_“My period started last night.” She bit her lip and looked down at the surface of the coffee, which began to ripple as she shook._   
_“No shit.” He stated._   
_“Ramsay, I’m…”_   
_“You invited me over here this week so that we could have sex, but you failed to tell me that you were due to start your period this week?” He cut in._   
_“No, Ramsay, it came…”_   
_“So what did you invite me over here for? Have I not done enough for you? My father saved you, didn’t he? I’ve cared for you, haven’t I? I’ve helped you make friends, I’ve helped you to begin to live a normal life. And the one thing I want in return, you can’t even do.” The coffee began to slosh over the sides of the cup._   
_“It came early Ramsay, I swear, I had no idea! It wasn’t meant to come until next week. It just happens ok? I can’t control it!” She cried, tears began to leak from her eyes. Ramsay’s look darkened. That was the moment. That was the moment she realised. She was afraid of him. For a split second, she swore she could see into his mind. He wanted to snatch the tray from her grasp, and he wanted to beat her with it._   
_Then the darkness in his face faded and his jaw unclenched._   
_“Shouldn’t you be heading to the gym by now?” He asked, his voice neutral. Jeyne nodded, placed the tray on the side, and left the room._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mr Stout, I have the new student with me.” She said to Mr Stout, who peered up at her over the top of his glasses, wracking his brains to try and remember this new student.  
> “Oh yes! Send her in! Class, we have a new student joining us. Please welcome Alayne Stone to the form.”

Everyone stared at them as they came in. Some had pity in their eyes when they spied Ramsay. Others were curious as to why they were both together. They ignored the looks. No one would dare to try and spread rumours about them. Despite his recent loss, people still feared Ramsay. They sat down next to each other at the last remaining table. “Ah, Ramsay, Myranda there you are.” Mr Stout said, coming in from his office. Ramsay and Myranda said nothing in reply, not that Mr Stout seemed to notice. As his name suggested, Mr Stout was a short, podgy man. He dressed as you would expect an old fashioned teacher to dress; in a tweed suit, goofy tie and glasses. He hurried through the register and then gave the weeks notices. There was a knock at the door and Miss Hornwood entered. She scanned the class and spotted Myranda. “Myranda, can I have a word? Go and wait for me outside my office please.” She ordered gently. Myranda rolled her eyes and pulled herself out of the chair. Ramsay watched her as she went, damning his father every time her hips swayed. Miss Hornwood waited in silence until she was gone. “Mr Stout, I have the new student with me.” She said to Mr Stout, who peered up at her over the top of his glasses, wracking his brains to try and remember this new student.  
“Oh yes! Send her in! Class, we have a new student joining us. Please welcome Alayne Stone to the form.” He announced. Ramsay did a double take. For a split second, he thought Jeyne had risen from her grave and walked into the room, but on closer inspection, he noticed she had some differences. The hair colour was the same, but she had higher cheekbones, a well-defined face and her eyes were a piercing blue. He suddenly realised that this must’ve been the girl he had mistakenly thought was Myranda earlier. She must’ve sensed his gaze on her, for she turned and fixed him with her deep blue eyes. He looked away. “Thank you Miss Hornwood, take a seat Alayne.” Mr Stout went back to his desk and Miss Hornwood left the room, leaving Alayne stranded at the front. That was the moment that Ramsay realised that the seat beside him was the only vacant one in the room. Alayne sat down beside him and smiled. “Hi.” She said brightly. Ramsay grunted a reply. “What’s your name?” She asked him, ignoring his sullen expression. A few people looked over at them curiously. “Ramsay.” He muttered in reply. Alayne’s smile widened.  

Myranda took a deep sigh of frustration and continued to stare at the stupid, meaningless abstract painting. There were several of them along the walls, but this one was the most bearable to look at. Some of the shapes looked like weapons. For once, she was relieved to see Miss Hornwood appear at the end of the corridor. “Come in Myranda.” She said, smiling and opening the door to her office. Myranda followed her in. Oh great. More abstract paintings. “Take a seat Myranda.” Miss Hornwood indicated to the seat opposite her desk. Myranda slumped down into it. Miss Hornwood ignored the grumpy teenager and sat down opposite her, clasping her hand together and placing them on the desk. “Now, Myranda. I received a rather alarming report this morning that you were spotted climbing over the school fencing. Is this true?” She asked. She knew full well it was true. “Yeah.” Myranda shrugged.  
“And why were you unable to use the school gate like all the other students?”  
“Because I was late.” Myranda admitted.  
“I see. Myranda, this is the tenth time you have been late in the month that you have been here. It is becoming a concern.” Miss Hornwood frowned. Myranda said nothing. She wasn’t too concerned. Miss Hornwood sighed and leant back in her chair. “What do you like doing in your spare time Myranda?” She asked after a moment’s consideration. That was easy, but Myranda somehow doubted that Miss Hornwood would be happy with getting high and drinking. She just shrugged. “Well, the file from your last school isn’t the most impressive I’ve ever seen, but your old drama teacher has written that you showed promise in the subject. Do you like drama Myranda?” She asked. Myranda stared at her feet. In fact, she did like drama. She would even go as far as saying that she loved it. She just hated letting people know that she loved it. “It’s ok I guess.” She mumbled.  
“There are auditions tonight for the school play. I suggest you go. You might surprise yourself and actually enjoy it.” Myranda just rolled her eyes. “If you don’t go then I’ll have to call your mother and inform her of your regular truanting.” Miss Hornwood raised a thin eyebrow. Checkmate. “Fine, I’ll go.” Myranda muttered.  
“Good, I’ll inform Mr Ryswell.” Miss Hornwood put on her glasses and began to write down a note. Myranda groaned inwardly. Mr Ryswell was one of her least favourite teachers. Worse still, he was Barbrey Dustin’s brother. “You may go Myranda.” She said. Myranda stood up and didn’t look back. For once, she would be glad to get to Mr Stout’s class.  
When she reached the classroom, however, she found that her seat had already been taken. She had seen the girl earlier. She had been standing outside the classroom when Miss Hornwood had called her out. “Hi!” The girl said brightly. She irritated Myranda already. “Can I help you?” Myranda growled. Ramsay glared at the new girl’s back, obviously as irritated by her as she was. “No, I think I’m good! I’m Alayne.” She said.  
“Well Alayne, you are in my seat.” Myranda’s look darkened in warning. Alayne looked over her shoulder at Ramsay, who was also glaring at her. Then she turned back to Myranda. “You must be Myranda.” Alayne smiled at her, looked her up and down, got up from the chair and walked away. Myranda threw herself down in the chair. “Stupid bitch.” She growled, ripping out her textbook from her bag. Ramsay nodded in agreement.

_***_

_Almost the moment she stepped out of the house, the rain began to pour down relentlessly. It was a half an hour walk to the bus stop but within a few minutes her clothes were soaked through. Jeyne carried on regardless. She went to the gym regularly, three days a week. It wasn’t her idea though. Ramsay had told her that she needed a hobby. Something to focus on. So she would go. For at least two hours. Only today, it was different. She felt like shit. She had stomach ache, back ache and between her thighs felt bruised and sore. Suddenly, it wasn’t just rain streaming down her face. Instead of carrying on down the road towards the bus stop, she turned down a country lane. She would go to the woods for a while. That would be her exercise for the day, and then she would return home. Perhaps Ramsay would have calmed down by then. She smiled. Yes. He would be ok by then._

_She was soaked to the core by the time she got back to the house. Miserable, and in a lot of pain, she stopped for a moment in the porch. She checked in the glass quickly to make sure the tear stains were gone. That was when she heard it. The unmistakable laugh of a girl. Jeyne let herself into the house. She waited a moment before following the voices. “You sure you want to do it?” Myranda asked with laughter in her voice._  
 _“Yes. It’ll be…entertaining.” Ramsay laughed back. Jeyne had heard enough. She made her entrance, feigning innocence. “Hey Myranda.” She said. Myranda stood up abruptly from the sofa, Ramsay followed suit. “Jeyne, I thought you were going to the gym?” Ramsay asked._  
 _“Yeah well, I didn’t really feel like it. I did walk around the woods though, for the exercise.” She tried her best to sound light hearted. “What were you guys planning?” She asked cheerfully. Ramsay looked to Myranda, begging her to answer for him. Jeyne pretended not to notice. “We were talking about holding a horror movie marathon, later on this evening. Ramsay said we could hold it here.” Myranda smiled at her._  
 _“Why don’t we do it at your place?” Jeyne smiled back. That was the bitchiest comment she’d ever said to someone’s face before, she knew Myranda’s weak spot was her home life. Ramsay glared at her, he hated bitching. Myranda glared at her too. “Your house is bigger.” She replied dryly. Jeyne could feel her cheeks burn red. “I’ll see you later.” Myranda said to Ramsay. She smiled sourly at Jeyne, picked up her bag and flounced from the room. Ramsay slumped down onto the sofa. Jeyne said nothing to him. She had been wrong. He hadn’t calmed down at all._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way Alayne told the tale was both captivating and chilling. Her face was set like stone, her eyes fixed on something far away as though she were seeing it all happen in the distance. And her voice was so cold. “Very good Alayne, I see you know the play well.” Mr Ryswell’s voice no longer had its light-heartedness.  
> “Yes. Extremely.” Alayne replied.

It was raining still when the school bell rang. He walked back to his house with only Reek for company. His mates had detention, which they actually enjoyed going to. No teacher ever wanted to be on detention duty so his gang would take the opportunity to bully and torture the year sevens; in some ways, it actually benefitted the school. No one wanted to end up in detention in fear of being a victim of the group’s cruelty.  
Myranda had also refused his invitation to return back to his house, saying that she had to stay behind for some audition for the school play that she was being forced to attend.  
So Ramsay, apart from Reek, was alone with a mood as dark as the weather. His wounds were still giving him grief, so much so that the moment he was home, he tore off his shirt and trousers and continued to his room in just his boxers. Reek followed him obediently. Ramsay quickly pulled on a pair of shorts. “Stay here Reek and do your homework. You can do mine as well while you are at it. I expect you to have finished it by the time dinner is ready.” Ramsay growled.  
“Yes Master.” Reek mumbled in reply, pulling out the books and paper from his bag and placing them on the floor, ready to begin his work. Ramsay was desperate to hit him. Just to hit something. But a part of him was afraid. If he took it too far, if his father noticed any bruises…  
Ramsay shivered, remembering the cold determined look that he had seen in his father’s eye last night. He never wanted to see that look again. Ramsay headed downstairs, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed into their private gym. Sometimes he found that exercise helped. Sometimes. Luckily for Reek, today was one of those times. He ran on the treadmill until his legs burned and he thought he would collapse. Then he headed over to the weights. As he got used to the rhythmical lifting, his mind began to wonder.  
The new girl Alayne had been in most of his classes that day. He wasn’t too sure why. She seemed far cleverer than any of the other students in his set. She was a swot as well as an irritating do-gooder. She was also very weird. He had spotted her at lunch, sat on a low wall by herself. She seemed quite happy to be there. She did not eat, but she wrote things down in a little black notebook. Stories perhaps? Sometimes though, he would catch her looking at him, as though she were making some observation. He would glare back at her and she would go back to writing.  
Ramsay was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the door to the gym open behind him. “Ramsay?” His father called out. Without a word, Ramsay put down the weights, stood up and turned to face him. His father’s eyes narrowed. “Been self-harming over your loss have you?” Roose asked dryly.  
“What?” Ramsay snapped back.  
“Your arms, back and legs seem to be cut.” His father replied. Ramsay wanted to pick up one of the weights and throw it at him. Instead, he just glared. “Well? Where did you get them?” His father asked.  
“Fucking unbelievable.” Ramsay growled, sitting back down.  
“What is?” Roose was rapidly growing tired of his son’s attitude.  
“You!” Ramsay snapped again.  
“And why might that be?”  
“You know exactly where I got the marks from.” Ramsay didn’t look at his father. He didn’t want to see the smug look on his face as he feigned realisation. “I don’t know what you are talking about Ramsay.” Roose admitted, his tone serious. “I’m tired of your false accusations now. Perhaps if you spent less time shoving my money up your nostrils, you’d have a clearer head and be able to recall where you actually got the marks from. I just came to tell you to get your pet out of your room. Dinner’s ready.” Roose left him there. Ramsay frowned. Why didn’t his father remember what happened? It had been him? Hadn’t it? Ramsay turned to the floor to ceiling mirror and looked at the marks that covered his back. They had been caused by a whip. Hadn’t they?

For once, Myranda was early to something. She was the first one outside the drama block. Great, that would make her look like a right nerd. To save face, she lit a fag. “Myranda Royce, what are the school rules about smoking?” Mr Ryswell yelled. She span around as he walked towards her. Strangely, he didn’t look like he was taking it seriously. In fact, he smiled as she took another drag. “What? You aren’t going to tell me to put it out?” She asked, aggravated.  
“Nope. It’s after hours. Besides, it’s the drama block! You can be whoever you want to be here.” He replied. He stood outside the building with her, waiting for the others to arrive. Mr Ryswell dressed casually almost every day. There was no point wearing a suit to be a drama teacher, the job required too much freedom to be restrained by uniform. He looked young for his age and was good looking, in a scruffy-teacher sort of way. Myranda took all of this in and took another drag of her cigarette. “So, are you going for a big part?” He asked.  
“I don’t know. Depends what the play is. It isn’t going to be about some shitty useless princess is it?” She leant against the wall of the building, ready to take in his every word.  
“On the contrary. The play that we are going to put on features a very complex and ambitious female role.” Mr Ryswell smiled, his eyes bright with excitement.  
“Well, what play is it?” Myranda leaned in, curious. If Mr Ryswell had seen Myranda discreetly unbutton her blouse so that it exposed her cleavage, he pretended not to notice. “That’s for me to know, and for you to find out Miss Royce.” Mr Ryswell said, tapping the side of his nose. Myranda slumped back against the wall, frustrated. Her breasts had never failed her before.

She sat by herself, away from all the theatre kids. She couldn’t stand them. Mr Ryswell took down everyone’s name. “Right, shall we begin?” He asked, taking centre stage. All heads turned as they heard the doors open and close. “I’m not too late for the auditions am I?” Myranda rolled her eyes as Alayne entered the room.  
“No, not at all! Not at all! Take a seat! Sorry, what’s your name?” Mr Ryswell asked, hopping from foot to foot, eager to begin.  
“Alayne.” She replied. To Myranda’s horror, Alayne sat down right next to her. “Surely there’s another seat you can take?” Myranda hissed.  
“Sure, but you looked lonely.” Alayne replied. Myranda rolled her eyes again.  
“Thank you all for coming today, I’m glad you could all make it. I am sure you are all eager to hear what this year’s play is going to be. I’ll give you a clue shall I?” The theatre kids leaned forward in their seats, each one wanting to be the first to guess. “Here’s the smell of the blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.” Mr Ryswell quoted. The theatre kids conferred with one another, but to no avail. Myranda didn’t have a clue. “Out damned spot?” Mr Ryswell probed, hoping for an answer.  
“The tragedy of Macbeth!” One of the theatre kids cried.  
“Hush, don’t say the name! It is bad luck! We must call it ‘the Scottish play’.” Mr Ryswell spoke in a hushed whisper, as though the very name would call up the dead. Myranda thought him ridiculous, but she shivered all the same. The room seemed colder. “Sir, why is it called ‘the Scottish play’?” A theatre kid, whose name was Palla, asked.  
“Because Palla, it is set in a fictional land. Scotland is a country in Shakespeare’s fictional universe.” Mr Ryswell replied. “Now, does anyone know the story of the Scottish play?” Alayne raised her hand.  
“Yes, um, Alayne.”  
“The Scottish Play is about Macbeth, a soldier who stumbles across three witches after a battle. The witches prophesise that he will be made thane of Cawdor and eventually King of Scotland. He takes no notice of their words until word comes from King Duncan that he has been made thane of Cawdor. He tells his wife what the witches’ prophesised. His wife is an ambitious woman who will stop at nothing to see her husband on the throne. She has him kill the King the night he stays at their home. They blame the King’s death on the chamberlains and King Duncan’s sons run away. The witches also prophesised that Macbeth’s friend Banquo will not have the throne himself, but his sons will. Macbeth then orders men to kill Banquo and his son Fleance. However, the assassins fail to kill Fleance. At a feast, Macbeth is visited by Banquo’s ghost. He goes and visits the witches again. They tell him he must beware of Macduff, that no man born of women can harm him and that he will be safe until Birnam Wood comes to Dunsinane hill. Macbeth has Macduff’s innocent wife and children brutally slaughtered in their own home. When Macduff hears of this, he vows to avenge his family and joins forces with Prince Malcolm and his English army. Meanwhile, Lady Macbeth is sinking into madness, believing she has blood on her hands, hence the ‘out damned spot’. Macbeth sinks into despair when he is told that she has killed herself. Macbeth readies for battle in Dunsinane, but even that won’t save him, for the English forces hide themselves by using cuttings from Birnam wood. Macbeth is terrified when the wood begins to move. On the battlefield, he encounters the vengeful Macduff, who says he was not of woman born, but his mother had to be cut open in order for him to come into the world. Macbeth now knows that he is doomed. Macduff kills and beheads him. In the end, he gets to avenge his family.” The way Alayne told the tale was both captivating and chilling. Her face was set like stone, her eyes fixed on something far away as though she were seeing it all happen in the distance. And her voice was so _cold_. “Very good Alayne, I see you know the play well.” Mr Ryswell’s voice no longer had its light-heartedness.  
“Yes. Extremely.” Alayne replied.

_***_

_Jeyne hated horror movies. She had seen enough horror in her life. She didn’t wish to put herself through anymore. But she was too afraid to refuse Ramsay’s gang. There was one thing that made it bearable; Sansa was texting her. She would smile or laugh at every one. For a time, no one took any notice of what she was laughing at, they were all laughing at the films. Every time something bad happened to the protagonists they would laugh, and cheer the antagonists on. They always routed for the bad guys. At the Purge, they would whoop and cheer each time they saw someone be harmed or killed. At Citadel, they laughed when the nurse got beaten to death. Jeyne’s luck didn’t last though. About half way into I Spit on Your Grave, Ramsay noticed her laughing. “I didn’t think you would find this so funny Jeyne.” He said, cocking his head to the side. Jeyne looked up from her phone, still smiling. Her face fell when she took in Ramsay’s expression. At that moment, her phone buzzed. Myranda paused the film. “Are you texting someone Jeyne?” Ramsay asked, his tone edged with sadistic glee._   
_“Um…it’s just a friend.” She admitted, biting her lip._   
_“But your friends are all here.” Ramsay pointed out. Damon let out a snort. “Is this the same friend who called you yesterday Jeyne?” He asked, looking around knowingly at his friends. Jeyne nodded. “Give me your phone Jeyne. We don’t want any more interruptions this evening.” Ramsay held out his hand. Jeyne placed her mobile in his palm, biting back tears. “You are going to watch the rest of the movie with us now, aren’t you Jeyne?” He asked, sliding the phone into his jacket pocket. Jeyne nodded. Myranda pressed play. Jeyne never took her eyes away from the screen, not even when Ramsay began to stroke her hair._

_By the ending, Jeyne felt ill. She took the empty bowls and glasses into the kitchen the moment the credits began to roll. Myranda followed her out. “Can I help with anything?” She asked with her usual sweetness._   
_“No thank you.” Jeyne replied, filling up the washing up bowl. Myranda remained in the kitchen. “Don’t you like horror movies?” Myranda asked, opening another can of beer._   
_“No.” Jeyne replied bluntly._   
_“Then why did you agree to have us over?” Myranda asked. This was a trick to get her angry, Jeyne knew this, but she was in no mood for games. “I was hardly given a choice.” She spat, trying to keep her voice low._   
_“Do you have a problem with me Jeyne?” Myranda asked, smiling wickedly. She was winning. Jeyne said nothing. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you did. Jealousy is such an unattractive trait in a woman don’t you think?” Myranda moved towards her. Jeyne began to tremble with a rage she never knew she possessed. “I sometimes find myself wondering, why is Ramsay with you? No offence, but you don’t seem his type. Is it out of duty? Or perhaps pity?”_   
_“He loves me.” Jeyne muttered, scrubbing at a dirty bowl._   
_“Are you really that stupid Jeyne? Men like Ramsay, they aren’t capable of love. Especially not for girls like you.” Myranda purred. Jeyne had heard enough. She threw the bowl she was holding to the floor. “He does love me, you spiteful bitch!” She screamed, so loud that it brought the boys running. Ramsay was the first to appear. He took in the smiling Myranda, the smashed bowl, and then the terrified Jeyne. “I think it’s time you all left. My girlfriend is tired and in need of a lesson.” The boys smiled at one another, then made hungry eyes at Jeyne, who began to shake. Ramsay waited until the front door slammed shut. “Wait for me upstairs Jeyne.” Ramsay ordered. Jeyne obeyed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need your help! I don't know who should play Macbeth! Preferably not Ramsay or his crew. I would like someone from the North, but not a Stark! Comment with any ideas!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek has been fortunate today, but his luck is about to change. Myranda gets a fright. Ramsay teaches Jeyne a lesson that she will never forget.

 Reek had been most fortunate today. It could even be classed as luck, if he believed in such a thing. He no longer did. Another boy had. Many years ago. _“Your name is Reek, it rhymes with weak.”_ He reminded himself. Reek curled up on his rug as his master undressed around him. He rubbed his cheek against the soft wolf fur. Yes. He was fortunate indeed. Tonight he was to go to sleep with a full belly and with hardly any area of his body causing pain. Still, he flinched when Ramsay’s mobile rang. “Hey Myranda.” Ramsay mumbled. Master had been annoyed with Myranda when they’d left school. Master had wanted to finish what he’d begun last night. “What do you mean someone followed you home?” Ramsay asked, annoyed. _“No, please, not now! I had been so fortunate!”_ Reek whimpered. “It was probably just someone coming back from detention. Was she limping?” Ramsay’s voice was amused now. “Don’t be stupid Myranda, loads of girls have brown hair. It doesn’t mean Alayne was following you home. No offence, but why would anyone want to follow you back to _your_ house…hello? HELLO?” Reek cried out as Ramsay threw his phone across the room in frustration. The sound caught Ramsay’s attention. “I hope you got all our homework done in time Reek.” Ramsay growled.  
“Yes Master. I’ve packed it into your school bag for you tomorrow.” Reek replied, sitting up to attention. He was not supposed to rest when his Master was speaking. He had learnt that a while ago. “Good boy then Reek. You may go to sleep now.” Ramsay said, clambering into bed. Reek muttered his thanks and curled up again on the soft rug. He waited until he heard Ramsay begin to snore before relaxing and drifting off to sleep himself.

His eyes snapped open. He was shivering. He glanced around from his place on the rug, first checking to see if it had been his Master that had stirred. Ramsay remained sound asleep in his bed. Then Reek heard it. The unmistakable humming. He sat up and looked over to the door. Perhaps Roose was still up? There came no sign of life from beyond the door. The humming continued, growing in volume. Reek began to tremble. When the humming turned to distinguishable words, he started to weep.

_Faces in the fog_   
_howl at the moon, like a dog_   
_and you haunt me,_   
_oh you haunt me._

Reek slammed his hands over his ears to try and drown out the sound, but it was as though the words were coming from inside his head. Then he spotted something move in the corner of the room. It stopped when it sensed his gaze. And it turned to face him. The green hood was up, the buttons on the denim jacket shone, though there was no light to cause the gleam. The eyes glinted as well. For a moment, there was such cruel malice in them that he mistook her for Myranda for a second. Then she opened her mouth and began to sing again. It had been her favourite song ever since word came of Mr Stark’s death. Her friend Sansa had been taken into foster care, then Arya had gone missing. Jeyne’s father had died in the car alongside Eddard.  
Reek covered his tear stained face with his hands, trying to hide. But he couldn’t. He peered up through his fingers. She hadn’t moved from her spot. But her eyes, they reached out to him. But they did not plead. They did not wish for help. Nor For an apology. Those cold, black, dead eyes promised one thing and one thing only.  
Reek began to wail hysterically.

When Myranda had gotten through the whole bottle of cheap vodka, she threw it across the room, allowing it to shatter against the far wall. She ignored the angry shouts from her neighbour. Despite the drink, she still didn’t feel settled. She staggered over to her draws and rummaged around, pulling out the small pouch of marijuana she had stuffed away beneath the fake bottom of her draw. If she didn’t hide it, her mum would take it. Once she inhaled, her mind drifted back a few hours.  
It had been dark by the time auditions were over. She had been good. She knew that. Everyone had been somewhat shocked; Mr Ryswell stuttered out a compliment, the theatre kids looked both deflated and angry about having new competition. Alayne had clapped. She had smiled at each of them smugly before throwing herself back into her chair, feigning indifference. But she really wanted that part. Lady Macbeth. She was ambitious; using the power of men for her own gain, and shielding herself behind it at the same time. That was what made her so attractive to Myranda.  
To her annoyance, Alayne had been equally impressive. She was her only real competition. When she set foot on stage, it was as though she were able to become a different person altogether. She chose Lady Macbeth’s final monologue, and the grief that she put into the role felt so real. Myranda swore that she could almost taste it.  
The moment Mr Ryswell had called an end to the auditions, Myranda fled from the room, wishing only to be home. Alayne overtook her. She had hurried past without a word and leapt into a sleek black car with blacked out windows. The door had barely shut before it sped off into the night. Myranda had begun to walk home. She soon began to sense someone behind her. She had taken no notice at first. But the figure seemed to be going the same way that she was, and always ten steps behind. She had managed to glimpse them for a moment in a shop window. Their hood was up but their long brown hair flew out behind them. That was when Myranda had come to the conclusion that it was Alayne. But she had seen her get into the car? In the darkness of the night, paranoia struck. Alayne was odd. Always writing stuff down in her little notebook. She always seemed to be watching, waiting for them to do something. Was she following her home? Did she know where she lived? That bitch Violet had said she’d seen her last night on the stairwell. She could easily have mistaken Alayne for her, they did have some similarities. But she hadn’t met Alayne until this morning. It didn’t make sense. Myranda had begun to walk so fast that she was almost running. Alayne still managed to keep pace with her though. For a few seconds, once she turned down an alleyway that led her to the tunnel that would take her beneath the freeway, Myranda had left her behind. Then she began to run. She ran through the tunnel all the way to the green in front of her tower block. When she had looked behind her, there was no one there. Then she had realised that she was crying and had quickly gone into the tower block. For once, she had been eager to get home.  
Then she had called Ramsay. She had thought that he might’ve understood. Perhaps he would be able to do something about it. But he had still been annoyed with her. In frustration, she had hung up on him.  
Then she began drinking.  
She felt a fool now. It probably hadn’t been Alayne at all. Alayne hadn’t even had a hoodie with her. And she had seen her get into the car. Smiling at her own foolishness, Myranda stubbed out the marijuana cigarette and undressed. She curled up in her filthy bed sheets and slept.

_***_

_Jeyne clutched the stair rail. She had to pull herself up, step by step. Below, she heard Ramsay smashing things up in the kitchen. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she reached the final step. There was no rail to hold onto now. She was on her own. On unsteady legs, she staggered to her bedroom. What did he want her to do now? The answer was obvious. Jeyne knew it. Nothing. She had already done enough. It was Ramsay’s turn now. Every time she heard a footfall on the stairs, she flinched. He seemed to be going slowly. Was it just to scare her? Finally, the door swung open. He looked at her, smiling. It was not a kind smile. Jeyne had rarely seen this smile. It always succeeded in terrifying her. She whimpered as he moved towards her. She pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing herself in. He sat down beside her. “You aren’t frightened of me, are you Jeyne?” He asked, his tone amused. Jeyne jerked her head from side to side. “Good, because I thought you loved me. You do love me, don’t you Jeyne?” Ramsay voice was no higher than a whisper, his face so close to her that she could smell the alcohol on his breath. She nodded, but tears continued to fall. “You’re jealous of Myranda, aren’t you? You know I don’t like that sort of thing. Women. You are so complicated aren’t you?” Ramsay pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. Jeyne flinched as his finger brushed her cheek. “You’ve been very disobedient today Jeyne. Right from the moment we woke up.” He leant forward and sniffed at her neck. Jeyne remembered the blood stained sheets. “I’ve told you Ramsay. I couldn’t help it! It isn’t something I can control!” She cried. Ramsay reeled away. His face darkened. He turned away from her and felt around in his pocket. He pulled out her phone. He unlocked it. She didn’t know how he’d gotten the pass code. “Ramsay, please…” She muttered, though he didn’t seem to hear her.  
“Who is Sansa?” He asked. She didn’t say anything. Sansa was hers. He had Theon. She wanted to keep Sansa. “Jeyne. Who is Sansa?” He asked again. He reached over and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. She cried out when he began to dig his fingers in. “She’s my childhood friend!” She wailed.  
“I see. So you are back in touch with your old friends are you?” He asked, not loosening his grip.  
“No, it’s just her. She found my number. _ She _called_ me _Ramsay, I swear!” She cried, though Ramsay seemed deaf to her words._  
 _“After all my father has done for you! He found a home for you, didn’t he? How can you be so ungrateful?” Ramsay released her neck and stood up. “Well, I’m afraid it’s my duty to fix this. And to teach you a lesson.” Ramsay growled. Jeyne cried out, but her protestations weren’t heard. Ramsay threw the phone against the wall, causing it to fall apart. Then he turned back to Jeyne. There was no anger in his eyes now, only a sickening excitement. He had wanted to do this for so long. He stormed towards her. She held her hands out in front of her, to try and shield herself, but he grabbed her wrists and twisted them until she was forced to turn to escape the pain. Ramsay threw her, face down onto the bed. She screamed and struggled desperately as he pulled up her skirts and tore off her nickers. “Ramsay, please don’t do this! I won’t call anyone again, I swear! I’ll be a good girlfriend to you, I’ll do whatever you want!” She screamed, though the words were muffled as he pushed her head down into the covers. Ramsay ignored her and threw his whole weight down on top of her. She wailed as she felt him crushing her, then she screamed as he began to thrust into her with agonizing force._

_He left when he was done. “Let this be a lesson to you Jeyne.” Was that what he had said? Jeyne could hardly remember. She could barely remember what the lesson had been for. She didn’t know how long she was lying there for. Time was lost to her. At some point, she pulled a bloody sheet over herself and curled up into a fetal position. When she woke up, she thought she had dreamt it all. She lay there for a few moments, not wanting to open her eyes. “Ramsay wouldn’t do a thing like that. He loves me.” She thought. Then she opened her eyes, and the crippling pain told her otherwise. She wept for a while. Then, behind the blur of tears, she spotted something in the corner of the room. In multiple pieces, her phone lay on the floor. Jeyne quickly pulled herself off of the bed. She half crawled, half dragged herself across the floor. On closer inspection, the phone hadn’t broken beyond repair. The screen was cracked, but other than that it was fine. Jeyne picked up the battery and put it back in. She waited in anticipation for it to turn on. When it finally did, she wept with relief. Then she wasn’t sure what to do. She couldn’t call Barbrey, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. There was only one other person who cared about her left in this world. But she was afraid. What would she think of her if she told her? Would she think she was weak? Tentatively, Jeyne picked up the phone and dialled Sansa’s number.  
She told her everything._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay is woken by a distressed Reek and has a heart-warming chat with his father. Myranda receives a message as well as her part in Macbeth.

Ramsay sat up when he heard the scream. Grabbing the baseball bat he had hidden beneath his bed, he slammed on the light, blinding himself for a moment. His eyes scanned the room and found nothing out of the ordinary. Lastly, his eyes settled on Reek. He was hunched over, face buried in the fur rug. He was trembling and continued to wail hysterically. Ramsay was not used to such behaviour from his pet, at least not unless it was caused by him. Even as he approached, Reek did not move from his position. Ramsay poked him with the end of the bat. Reek didn’t seem to feel it and continued trembling. Ramsay frowned and knelt down beside him. “Reek?” He muttered, gently brushing across the shaking wreck’s back. Big mistake. Reek lashed out and screamed at the top of his lungs. Ramsay was actually knocked backward by the force of the blow whilst Reek continued to roll around on the floor. His eyes were wide with fear and he looked about the room endlessly, as though there were something that he was looking for. Ramsay watched him for a moment. The screams continued to come and were only getting louder. Ramsay leapt up and jumped onto his pet, pinning him to the floor. “No! Please! Leave me alone! I didn’t do anything! PLEASE!” Reek wailed. Ramsay frowned. It were as though his pet couldn’t see him. The words he said were shouted into the far corner of the room. Ramsay looked over there. There was nothing to see except for a dreary old cupboard. “Not scared of my cupboard are you Reek? You know I only open it when you are very, very bad.” His voice was filled with sadistic glee. But any hopes Ramsay had of scaring Reek back to normal were soon dashed. Reek reached up and began to claw at Ramsay’s face, screaming and wailing. “Reek, that’s enough!” Ramsay growled. He flinched when he heard a floorboard outside his door creak. Moments later, Roose Bolton appeared in the doorway. He looked at Ramsay, who was still on top of the struggling Reek. He raised an eyebrow. “It’s a bit late for you to be doing that Ramsay. You both have school in the morning.” He pointed out dryly. Ramsay looked up at his father, who was shocked to actually see concern on his face. “It’s Reek, I don’t know what happened! He just started screaming!” Ramsay cried. Reek continued to convulse beneath him. Roose frowned and watched him for a moment. Then Reek began to yell again. “Please no! Make it stop! Make her stop!” He wailed, slamming his hands over his ears repeatedly, as though he thought he could beat whatever he was hearing out of his head. Roose had heard enough. He strode forward and snatched the bat from Ramsay. “Father, what are you…” Before Ramsay had a chance to finish the question, Roose brought the bat down on Reek’s head, knocking him unconscious. “What the fuck did you do that for?” Ramsay growled angrily. His father gave him a warning glance. “Pick him up and bring him downstairs.” Roose ordered, leaving the room. Ramsay did as he was told, marvelling at how light his pet was. He carried him with ease all the way down to the lounge and settled him on the sofa. He sat down to wait until he came around. To his surprise, his father came in with a glass of whisky and sat down in an armchair. He looked at Ramsay. Ramsay scowled back. “What has brought this on?” Roose asked his son, sipping his drink nonchalantly. Ramsay picked at the arm of the chair. “Don’t ask me, I don’t know.” He snapped.  
“That thing rarely leaves your side and you don’t know what caused him to have a panic attack on your bedroom floor? What were you doing to him?” Roose had his coroner voice on now.  
“I wasn’t doing anything! I just woke up to him screaming, I swear it father, by the old gods and the new!” Ramsay cried, though the last bit had a hint of sarcasm. Roose narrowed his eyes, then nodded. He could always tell when his son was lying. He knew he was speaking the truth. “What do you care what I do with him anyway? You said when we got him that I could do whatever I liked with him in the house as long as you hear none of it.” Ramsay recalled.  
“I did. But the moment that boy starts having panic attacks in public is the moment he gets taken away. This is in your interests as well as mine.” Roose said pointedly. Ramsay looked at his pet. He wasn’t going to lose him. He’d make sure of that. “What did he mean by ‘make her stop’?” Roose’s interrogation continued.   
“I don’t know!” Ramsay repeated.  
“Nothing that your…friend, has done?”  
“Who, Myranda?” Ramsay asked. Roose remained thin lipped. “She wouldn’t touch him unless I let her.” Ramsay said. Roose narrowed his eyes. “If anyone suspects that you are in a relationship with that girl, people will start talking.” Roose took another sip of his whisky.  
“By people you mean Barbrey.” Ramsay seethed. Roose did not react to that. “So what, I’m not allowed to have any fun?” Ramsay asked incredulously.  
“No. You are supposed to be mourning the loss of Jeyne.” Roose reminded him.  
“Some loss.” Ramsay grunted. Roose said nothing. He stood up and walked over to where his son was sitting. He towered over him. “If I hear that you and that whore of yours have gone public, I’ll make what you did to Jeyne look like an act of kindness. Do I make myself clear?” Roose’s voice was barely higher than a whisper. Ramsay nodded in reply, not daring to look at his father. Roose moved away from him. “You stay with your pet until he comes around, understand?”   
“Yes father.” Ramsay hissed through gritted teeth. Smiling, Roose left the room.

When Myranda’s alarm clock went off in the morning, it felt like she had been hit over the head with a hammer. She stumbled from her bed and went over to the mirror. Rough. She struggled into her pants and bra and wandered out into the lounge. Her mum wasn’t there. Myranda doubted whether she had even come home last night at all. She went into the kitchen, but couldn’t stomach the thought of food. She made a coffee and went back to her room to get ready for school. She sprayed herself with so much body spray she almost threw up. Her clothes weren’t clean so she did her best to cover up any smell and scrubbed away the stains. Not that anyone would dare to say anything. Girls could bitch however much they liked, but she could get any boy she wanted. And that was what mattered. It was also the main reason most girls despised her.  
Even so, Myranda was not feeling her best today. She doubted she would even be able to get with weird kid Jojen Reed she was feeling that rough. As the lift lurched into motion, her stomach lurched with it and she almost threw up again. Fortunately, Violet was nowhere to be seen. That made Myranda feel a little better. If it had been Alayne that Violet had seen the other night, she obviously hadn’t returned last night. Myranda breathed in the fresh air and lit a cigarette as she approached the tunnel. A gang of young people dressed in bright orange jumpsuits were gathered around the left side near the end of the tunnel. On the back of their overalls were the words ‘community payback’. “This is the shittest piece of graffiti I think I’ve ever seen!” A boy joked. As Myranda neared them, her blood ran cold. The words ‘I’m here’ had been written with red spray paint. She stopped in her tracks and stared at them. One of the youths on community service noticed her. “Can we help you with something?” She asked. Myranda was too shocked to be able to reply. “Freak.” The girl muttered. The gang moved away from the writing, brushing past her. Myranda flinched. She took one last look at the writing on the wall. _“No. It has nothing to do with me. It was just some stupid kid that couldn’t think of anything better to write.”_ She thought to herself. But she shivered all the same.

Only Ben and Damon were there by the time she reached school. Once again, she was unusually early. “Hey Myranda!” They called. Myranda hushed them and plonked herself ungracefully onto the grass. “Someone have a rough night?” Asked Damon, looking down at her and trying to ignore the fact that her skirt had ridden up, exposing her nickers.   
“Try bitch of a night.” She groaned.  
“Hi Myranda!” Came a voice from behind her. Myranda turned around and groaned again. Alayne smiled brightly as she walked gracefully across the grass. “I just bumped into Mr Ryswell, he said he’s put up the cast list for Macbeth. Do you want to come and look at them with me?” She asked, staring down at her. Damon and Ben raised an eyebrow, amused by Myranda’s new ‘friend’. “Fine.” Myranda snapped, to be truthful, she really wanted to know what part she had got. Alayne ignored the tone and offered her a hand to help her up. Myranda batted it away. “When Ramsay gets here, tell him I’ll be outside the drama block, he can meet me there.” She ordered. The boys nodded and she walked off with Alayne. “What part do you want to get?” Alayne asked, trying to make conversation. Myranda shrugged. “I bet you’ll get Lady Macbeth. You did so well in the audition, and you really suit her.” Myranda just grunted, but she suddenly remembered Alayne’s words from the night before. “ _Lady Macbeth is sinking into madness, believing she has blood on her hands, hence the ‘out damned spot’”_ She shook them away. She was being ridiculous. Alayne was too ditsy to be capable of trying to make her go mental. Perhaps she was still a bit drunk? She continued to stumble along as Alayne rushed ahead to check the casting list. “Myranda! I knew you’d get it! I knew it!” She cried. Myranda looked at the list herself. Alayne’s words rang true. She was going to play Lady Macbeth! Myranda smiled. “Who are you playing?” She asked, just to rub it in.   
“I’m Macduff! It’s a man’s part put I don’t mind. At least I survive the whole play!” She joked. Myranda was irritated by her happiness. “Myranda!” She turned to see Ramsay approaching, with Reek stumbling along behind him.   
“I need the loo.” Alayne muttered quickly, before speeding off. Myranda ignored her. “Hey.” She muttered flatly.  
“What’s up?” Ramsay asked.  
“Nothing. I got the female lead in the school play.” She replied, trying to sound disinterested.   
“Ok…so?”   
“Is that it? You aren’t even going to say well done?” She snapped.  
“Since when did you care about some dumb play?” He snapped back.  
“Oh what? So I’m not allowed to care about anything? Nice Ramsay real nice.” She screeched.  
“Wow, someone’s on their period.” Ramsay growled. She heard Reek cry out when she slapped Ramsay, as though he had been struck himself. Before Ramsay could strike back, she was walking off. She felt like complete shit now. She hurried towards the toilets, reaching the sink just in time to throw up. “Myranda? Are you ok?” Alayne asked, she had been washing her hands when Myranda burst in. Myranda replied by emptying her stomach for a second time. “Come on, let’s get you home.” Alayne muttered, pressing some toilet paper into her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, no Jeyne bit this time, just had too much to put in here!   
> This is slightly random, but I have just finished watching a film called park. If you want to watch Roose Bolton be beaten up by an old man, that's your place to go. Just saying.  
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay gets an apology from Myranda. Theon is suffering from his night terrors. Jeyne gets another unexpected call.

Ramsay had finally calmed down when it was time for English. It was also one of the lessons that he shared with Myranda. The thought of her still irritated him. What irritated him more was the thought of losing her. He never usually felt attached to someone, but he and Myranda were kindred spirits. She was the only person who really understood his desires. And better yet, she was willing to take part in fulfilling them.  
She was late to class, as usual. Ramsay tried to watch her discreetly as she stood in the doorway. She looked around momentarily before taking her seat beside Ramsay at the back of the class. She said nothing to him, obviously still annoyed. She looked better now though; she had been looking pretty rough when they had argued this morning.

About halfway into the lesson, the teacher ordered the class to work in pairs. Myranda looked over at him, as though thinking for a moment, then she inched her chair closer. Ramsay made no attempt to move. “Look, I’m really sorry for arguing with you earlier.” She whispered, not wanting others to hear. Ramsay frowned. He had not expected her to apologise. He said nothing. “I had a really bad night last night. I’m sorry I couldn’t come around yours.” Ramsay gasped in surprise as Myranda stroked her hand over his thigh and rested it on his crotch. “I wish to make it up to you.” Myranda smiled her seductively wicked smile. Ramsay smiled back, all memory of his father’s warning seemed to vanish. She leant closer so that she could whisper in his ear without fear of being overheard. “Meet me in the store room at lunchtime.” She hissed.  
Lunch could not come quick enough.  
Myranda went first, hurrying off the moment the bell rang. Ramsay tried to leave at a leisurely pace. He pretended not to notice his friends as he passed them. He did notice Alayne, who sat on the same wall she had sat on at lunch time yesterday; her little black notepad lay open on her lap. Ramsay continued past her without a second glance. He stopped only for a moment outside the store room, to make sure no one was around to see him go in. The coast was clear. When he opened the door, he found that Myranda was nowhere to be seen. “Myranda?” He called out, taking a step inside and closing the door. He turned on the light and moved further into the room. “Myranda?” He called again.  
“I’m here.” Ramsay jumped and span around and smiled. She was already undressed down to her shirt, though half the buttons were undone, exposing her breasts beneath. “You ready?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“You bet.” He replied. She moved towards him, backing him against the wall, then began to undress him. He gasped as she groped the front of his trousers before pulling them down as well. “Let me show you how sorry I am.” She whispered. Ramsay gasped and stifled a moan as she knelt down in front of him, taking his cock in her mouth. Luckily for them, all the students were either in the cafeteria or in the playground. No one heard Ramsay as Myranda pleasured him. No one heard Myranda scream for Ramsay to fuck her harder. It was just them.

When they were done, Myranda hurriedly dressed. “That was fucking amazing.” Ramsay groaned. Myranda smiled. “Not as good as that time before the bitches’ funeral.” Myranda replied, grinning wickedly. Ramsay laughed. “Yeah, that was pretty good too.” He said.  
“You should go out first, otherwise someone might see us.” She suggested. Ramsay finished doing up his trousers and stuffed in his shirt. “Sure. I’ll see you after school?” He asked, pulling her in close.  
“No, I’ve got rehearsals.” She replied. Ramsay nodded. He was in too good a mood to be annoyed or angry about it. He kissed her and left, closing the door behind him.

When Reek saw his Master approaching, he hurried over to him, offering up his lunch. Ramsay snatched it up wordlessly and devoured the sandwich as he approached his friends. Reek followed behind obediently. He wanted to cry; his head was hurting from the force of Roose’s blow. He struggled to remember the events of last night, even when he was interrogated by Ramsay this morning. He only remembered waking up for no reason, looking around the room. Something had moved in the corner…  
After that, it was a blur.  
Whatever had happened, it was enough to put Reek on edge. He was standing beside his Master, in case he was needed, when he felt a pair of eyes on him. When Reek span around to fine the source, he almost screamed. There was a girl watching him. She looked like Jeyne. Reek began to tremble. When she saw him returning her stare, she quickly got up and left. “Reek, what are you looking at?” Ramsay growled, following his pet’s frightened gaze. “Not crushing on the new girl, are you Reek?” Ramsay asked.  
“N-no Master. She was just…I thought she was watching me.” Reek confessed.  
“Why would any girl look at you Reek?” Ramsay smirked.  
“I wouldn’t mind having her look at me.” Damon grinned, watching Alayne as she walked away.  
“Who? Alayne? She’s a complete weirdo.” Ramsay replied.  
“Well that weirdo keeps looking at you Ramsay. Perhaps it’s you she likes.” Skinner was also watching the girl as she hurried away.  
“Not going to happen. I’m taken.” Ramsay laughed. Reek continued to glance nervously around the playground as Ramsay told his friends about his adventure with Myranda in the store room. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

_***_

_Despite the isolation she was bound to experience when staying home on her own, Jeyne could not recall a time in the recent years where she had felt this happy. She and Sansa texted each other daily, having conversations about random things. Sometimes they would skip down memory lane together, other times it was just sharing things they found amusing. Either way, Jeyne was reminded of what it was like to have a friend._   
_When she had told Sansa about what Ramsay had done, she had not been repulsed. She had not made Jeyne feel weak or ashamed. She had told her how brave she was, how strong. And that she was better off without him. “Let that Myranda bitch have him.” She had said. They had come to the conclusion not to go to the police, at least not yet. Jeyne knew it was the right thing to do, but she was afraid. Ramsay’s father had too much power and influence. He may hate his son, but he would never forgive her for bringing stain on his family name. The best option was to wait for Barbrey to return home. Roose would listen to her._   
_She didn’t see or hear from Ramsay. It was in her nature to go around to apologise for upsetting him. A part of her was convinced that it had all been her fault. She had angered him after all. It was Sansa that convinced her otherwise. She stayed in the house, almost afraid to go outside in case she came across one of Ramsay’s friends, or worse, Ramsay himself._   
_But then the phone call came._   
_It was an unknown number so Jeyne had answered it warily. Her heart broke when she heard the voice. “Jeyne?” Theon whispered in her ear. She had been so shocked that she had almost dropped the phone. Theon had gone to live with Ramsay, and Jeyne had hardly seen him since. All she knew was that he had been nicknamed Reek and that the last time she had seen him he had lost weight and had barely said two words to her. She had tried to talk to Ramsay about it, but he had soon become angry and had stormed off. Why was Theon calling her now? Had Ramsay done something to him too? “Theon, what is it?” She asked, concerned._   
_“Not Theon! Reek! Reek!” He squeaked._   
_“Calm down, it’s alright. Tell me what’s happened.” She tried to sound calm._   
_“I-I’m scared Jeyne. I need you!” He cried._   
_“Alright, I’ll come. Where are you?” She was already pulling on her hoodie and denim jacket._   
_“I’m in the woods. In the den. H-hurry! I’m scared!” He wailed._   
_“I’m coming! Just stay where you are ok?” Jeyne only heard a whimpered reply before Theon hung up._


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myranda felt tears spill onto her soft cheeks. She threw the photos to the floor and glanced up at the mirror. She screamed. “I’m here” Had been written on the glass with red paint.

Myranda was feeling much better the next day. The alarm clock didn’t set off a hammer in her head and she got ready for school with a spring in her step. Her mum had returned to her usual place; passed out on the sofa. Myranda felt kind enough to sneak past her. She took the elevator down to the ground floor. The gang of youths doing community service were in the tunnel again, scrubbing away the graffiti. But there was no ominous message to send shivers down her spine. “Hey Myranda.” Came a nervous voice from behind her. Myranda turned to see a small girl, who she recognised from the Macbeth auditions. “It’s Palla.” The girl said, noticing the questioning look.  
“Oh.” Myranda replied and carried on walking. She wasn’t in such a good mood that she wanted to strike up conversation. But Palla persisted. She matched Myranda stride for side and walked with her towards school. “What do you want?” Myranda snapped. The girl jumped. “I-I just wanted to say how well you were doing, you know, at rehearsals.” She stuttered.  
“Ok.” Myranda replied bluntly.  
“I mean, I only saw through the door yesterday, but you were doing really really well, I mean, have you had training or something?” Palla continued.  
“Wait, did you say yesterday?” Myranda asked, stopping in her tracks.  
“Yeah.” Palla said, nervously.  
“I wasn’t there yesterday. I went home ill after I found out I got the part.”  
“Oh, well maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe it was Alayne, you do look similar. Maybe he gave her your part, I mean, Mr Ryswell can be pretty strict with stuff like…”  
“Alayne stole my part?” Myranda growled.  
“I…um…I don’t know. Maybe she was just filling in.” Myranda was no longer listening. She began to run towards the school.  
When she reached the school gates, she spotted Alayne heading into the art block and hurried after her. Alayne was just about to go into the dark room when Myranda caught up with her. “Oh, hey Myranda! You’re looking better today, do you feel better?” Alayne asked when she spotted her.  
“Did Mr Ryswell give you my part?” Myranda growled.  
“Um…no?”  
“Then why did Palla…”  
“Look, can we do this in a minute. I have this photography project that I need to finish today and I really need to pick up my photographs. I’ll speak with you in a bit.” Before Myranda could get another word out, Alayne disappeared inside the dark room. She stood there gulping like a fish until two year sevens appeared around the corner and stared at her. When they started whispering, she turned away and went into the toilets. She locked herself in one of the cubicles and took some deep breaths. She was being so ridiculous. Palla was probably just bullshitting. Maybe she was jealous, she was one of the theatre crowd after all.  
Myranda did not know how long she sat there for. But the noise outside in the halls increased, suggesting it was almost time for school to start. Myranda was just about to let herself out of the cubicle when an A4 sized envelope was slid under the door. She picked it up, turning it over in her fingers. When she heard a shuffling outside the door, she unlocked it. “Hello?” She called. No one answered. Myranda slid the contents of the envelope into her hands. A note slid out amongst the down-turned photographs. _“Like mother, like daughter.”_ Myranda frowned and turned the photographs over. The photos had been taken inside the store room. The first photograph showed Ramsay being undressed, but the person in question’s face was in shadow. She looked at the next one. The person was kneeling in front of Ramsay now, quite clearly giving him a blow job. Myranda cried out, but forced herself to keep looking through. The next was Ramsay and the girl having sex, as were the next three. The final photograph revealed the mystery girl. Myranda felt as though she had been punched in the gut. The photo had been zoomed in on, clearly showing both her face and Ramsay’s. Myranda felt tears spill onto her soft cheeks. She threw the photos to the floor and glanced up at the mirror. She screamed. _“I’m here”_ Had been written on the glass with red paint. Myranda fled from the toilets. When she got outside however, the students had all crowded around the notification screens, on which a video was playing. Myranda didn’t have to look at it to know what it was. She had missed the most graphic parts. Her eyes were glued to the screen as she watched herself dress. She had never had sex with Ramsay in the store room. Never. “That was fucking amazing.” Said Ramsay. She watched this mirror image of herself smile. “Not as good as that time before the bitches’ funeral.” The crowd gasped, knowing which bitch she was talking about. She had never said that. Ramsay laughed. “Yeah, that was pretty good too.” He said. Myranda let out a whimper. Those at the back of the crowd heard her and turned to face her. It had a ripple effect. Soon enough, everyone was staring at her. The hall was silent. The video began to replay. “Skanky bitch!” Someone yelled. Others also joined in the cat calling. Myranda wailed and turned away from them. “Boyfriend stealer!” Another person cried. She began to run away, but down each corridor, gangs of students had gathered around the screens. The moment they saw her, they began to shout abuse. Myranda ran towards reception, towards the exit. But at the last screen she came across, she saw Alayne. The girl turned, her face dropped when she saw Myranda. Myranda spotted an A4 envelope in her arms. Just like the one that had been slid under the door in the toilet. _“I have this photography project that I need to finish today and I really need to pick up my photographs_.” Alayne’s words echoed around Myranda’s head. The feeling of humiliation was soon replaced by rage. “You.” She hissed. Alayne didn’t get to utter a word before Myranda tackled her. She managed to get on top of her and began to punch, bite and scratch repeatedly. “She’s gone mental!” Someone yelled. Myranda was screaming at Alayne, who struggled beneath her, unable to escape the fists and claws. “Someone help Alayne!” Another student cried. Myranda was crying, but she didn’t notice. She had never looked uglier. She looked like some sort of feral child. She never heard the three men approaching. She didn’t feel it when two men grabbed her by the arms and pulled her off of the bleeding Alayne. Myranda continued to scream and punch wildly as she was pulled away. “Myranda! That’s enough!” One of the men yelled.  
“Myranda, I think you should stop this foolish behaviour now.” Came a soft voice. Myranda’s blood froze. Fearfully, she turned her head and looked straight into the cold eyes of Roose Bolton. “I am so sorry Mr Baelish, I hope Miss Stone is ok? If you wish, one of the students can escort you to the school nurse.” Mr Ryswell’s words sounded distant as Myranda continued to stare at Roose.  
“You have my thanks, Mr Ryswell, but I can assure you it won’t be necessary. I will take her home. My daughter has been through a lot, she’ll need a bit of time.” Mr Baelish replied, his eyes never leaving Alayne.  
“Of course. I will take Miss Royce to the Headmistress, I don’t doubt that she will want to see her.” Mr Ryswell tugged at Myranda’s arm, but Myranda was frozen to the spot.  
“Go on Myranda.” Roose’s words were encouraging, but his voice made it sound as though it were a threat. Terrified, Myranda allowed Mr Ryswell to lead her away.

_***_

_Going to the gym had its perks. Jeyne was able to run all the way to the woods. She never stopped for breath. Images of Theon being beaten and tortured span around her head in a dizzying whirl. She wanted to cry when thinking about all the things they could have done to her friend. “No. You mustn’t cry. Sansa wouldn’t. She would want you to be strong.” She repeated to herself. Her feat carried her all the way to the woods. She soon found the path that would lead her to the den. When she got nearer, she slowed down. Ramsay and his gang might still be around. She approached warily. The setting sun turned the leaves a bloody red and the breeze sent a song through the trees. Jeyne thought of her favourite song. Singing it in her head gave her the courage to continue. It had got her this far. When she reached the clearing though, her courage froze. Theon was nowhere to be seen. “Theon?” She called out softly. Only the breeze answered. Then she heard the snap of a twig behind her. Jeyne span around and breathed a sigh of relief. Theon watched her from the bushes. “Theon! Thank the gods! What happened? Are you hurt?” She asked, moving towards him. Reek shuffled away. “I’m sorry.” He whispered._   
_“Don’t be sorry, you know I’ll always come when you call.” She said softly._   
_“No. I’m so sorry Jeyne. They made me…I didn’t want to…I was so scared! They forced me to do it!” He wailed._   
_“Theon you’re scaring me now! Forced you to do what? Who made you do it?” Jeyne’s voice had become high pitched and squeaky as her courage slid away from her._   
_“Why, we did of course.” Came Myranda’s voice from within the forest. One by one, Ramsay’s gang appeared from the bushes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I didn't write much for Jeyne this chapter, but we will here more from her in the next chapter. Poor girl.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay finds out about the video. Myranda has a meeting with Miss Hornwood. Jeyne's night of horror continues.

Ramsay didn’t hurry to lesson. He finished his fag and gave up waiting for Myranda. He was too tired to put up with the strange behaviour of girls today. His dad had given him and Reek a lift in, after another scream filled night. Ramsay had no idea what was going on with his pet. If he was honest, it both scared him and upset him at the same time. What was it that was frightening his pet into such disobedience? Either way, Reek had screamed enough to wake his father up. Again. Ramsay shivered as he entered the class room. The moment he stepped inside, everyone went silent. They all turned to stare at him. Some even dared to glare. Ramsay headed over to where his mates were sitting. “What the fuck is going on?” He asked them as people continued to stare.  
“You mean, you don’t know?” Skinner sounded surprised. Ramsay shook his head. “Show him Damon.” Skinner ordered. Damon grudgingly pulled out multiple photographs and handed them up to Ramsay, not meeting his gaze. Ramsay’s eyes widened with horror as he leafed through them. He looked up, open mouthed, as people continued to glare at him. “Where did you get these?” Ramsay hissed.  
“They were just lying around, scattered along the floors of the corridor.” Skinner informed. None of the boys looked at him. They shuffled nervously in their seats. “What aren’t you telling me? Spit it out!” Ramsay ordered. It fell to Skinner again to answer his question. “That wasn’t all. There…there was a video. Someone must’ve hacked into the school computer that controls the notification boards. Everyone saw it. It was put on repeat. Took quite a while for one of the technicians to stop it.” Ramsay was shaking with rage by now. He kicked at a chair and sat down. People continued to stare, but he didn’t care about that. Ramsay put his face in his hands, thinking. “Who do you think put it on there? They must’ve known what you were planning on doing. But why go to all this bother?” Damon asked, sawing at the edge of the table with a ruler.  
“I don’t know. Maybe someone saw me going in and crept up to a window to film it.” Ramsay answered.  
“Ramsay, whoever filmed it, they were in there with you at the time.” Skinner told him. Ramsay looked up, frowning. “You don’t think…Myranda?” He gasped.  
“No way! She freaked when she saw it. She attacked the new girl.” Skinner replied.  
“But, why would she attack Alayne?” Ramsay didn’t get the answer to his question.  
“Ramsay Bolton, headmistress’s office, now!” Ordered Mr Ryswell on opening the door. The students watched him leave. They continued to glare and mutter to each other.

Myranda was in shock by the time she was sat down in Miss Hornwood’s office. She barely heard the first question. “Myranda? What is the meaning behind all this folly?” Miss Hornwood repeated.  
“Alayne.” Myranda muttered.  
“What has Alayne got to do with any of this?” Miss Hornwood asked incredulously.  
“She’s following me. She keeps pretending to be me.” Myranda insisted.  
“Why would she go to all that trouble?”  
“She wants my part in the play!” Myranda wasn’t sure if that was the real reason, but it was the only one she had.  
“Ok, Myranda, that is ridiculous. You are trying to tell me that Alayne filmed you having sex with Ramsay because she wants to play Lady Macbeth?”  
“No…that wasn’t me in the video! I wasn’t in yesterday…I mean…I was for a little while in the morning, but then I went home!”  
“What are you talking about Myranda? You came back at around ten o’clock. I was there when you signed in!” Miss Hornwood frowned wearily.  
“Look, whoever it was, it wasn’t me!” Myranda exclaimed.  
“Well unless you have a twin, I don’t know who else it could’ve been.”  
“It must’ve been Alayne! She went to the rehearsals and took my part!”  
“Actually Myranda, Alayne went to the dentist just after lunch. Only this morning Mr Ryswell was telling me how well you were doing!”  
“It wasn’t me…I…I don’t understand…”  
“Do you take drugs Myranda?” Miss Hornwood asked, after a thoughtful pause.  
“Occasionally.” Myranda admitted. Miss Hornwood just nodded, as though that were the answer to everything. “Look, this has nothing to do with drugs! Someone is out there and they’re trying to fuck with my head. Please…you have to believe me!” Myranda cried.  
“I think the best thing for you to do now Myranda is for you to go home.”  
“You’re expelling me?” Myranda gasped.  
“You attacked a student, and you had sex on the premises.”  
“That wasn’t me for fuck’s sake!”  
“Mr Bolton has offered to take you home once I’ve spoken to Ramsay. I am very sorry Myranda.” Myranda opened her mouth to argue, but found that she had no fight left.

_***_

_Panic scared away what remained of Jeyne’s courage. “I should run.” She thought. But there was no escape. She was surrounded. “How heart-warming it is, that you were so willing to come to my pet’s rescue. But you forgot your lessons Jeyne. Reek only has his Master.” Ramsay smiled, stepping out from behind a bush to stand beside Reek._  
 _“We should teach her a lesson.” Damon smiled wickedly at her._  
 _“No. Something far more drastic needs to be done.” Myranda smiled at each of them in turn. The men stood a little straighter. “You have been very disobedient Jeyne. You refused to practise the lessons Ramsay gave you. There is something dark within you Jeyne. Something that must be destroyed.” Myranda’s voice had an eerie ring to it, as though it were coming from several places at once._  
 _“This is madness! If there is anything dark around here it’s you!” Jeyne protested, her voice steadier than she had expected. Myranda smiled cruelly. “No Jeyne. We are here to help you.” She continued. Jeyne looked around frantically. There! There was a gap in those bushes._  
 _Jeyne began to run._  
 _Her feet led her through the woods. She did not look where she was going. Yes! She had escaped! Jeyne exulted as she leapt over a small stream. The celebrations were short lived however. Soon enough, she heard dogs begin to bark. She screamed as she glimpsed one through the trees. “You can’t run away from us Jeyne!” Ben shouted. Jeyne glanced behind her. Perhaps that had been her mistake. She felt something heavy run into her, knocking her to the ground. Jeyne didn’t have any time to catch a breath before the dogs were on her, ripping and tearing at her clothes and flesh. Jeyne screamed out, begging for them to stop, or for someone to help her. “Down girls, heel!” Ben called his hounds back to him. Jeyne tried to get back up, but cried out when she felt the pain in her ankle. Sour Alyn was the one to approach her next. “We can’t purge you of your demons here Jeyne, it must be before the gods.” Myranda’s voice was thick with sarcasm and sadistic glee._  
 _“No, I won’t go back there!” She screamed._  
 _“Did we say you’d get a choice?” Alyn growled. Jeyne tried her best to scramble away, but Alyn was too quick for her. Picking up a large lump of wood, he whacked her around the head, the force of the blow knocking her unconscious._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a short chapter, but everything in moderation :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting your boyfriends family can be awkward.  
> Having his father want to torture you and nicknaming you whore makes it more so.  
> Poor Myranda.

Neither Ramsay nor Myranda objected when Roose continued to drive past Myranda’s home. They knew that that was not where she was destined to go. His father had warned Ramsay about what would happen if anyone found out about their relationship. No doubt Myranda would be punished as well. _“But it wasn’t me.”_ She thought, biting back tears on the backseat. Ramsay didn’t look at her. He gave no reassurance. Did he think it was her that had filmed it? Myranda didn’t know, but she thought better of it not to bring up the subject in front of Mr Bolton. He had covered up the death of the last girlfriend. After what had happened today, people would understand why Myranda would commit suicide.  
She was shaking by the time they pulled up on Ramsay’s driveway. Roose got out of the car and headed towards the house without a word. Ramsay and Myranda followed suit. “Ramsay, what is he going to do to me?” She asked him fearfully. Ramsay turned to her, his face dark with anger. “Anything he likes. You brought it on yourself, but now I’m going to be punished as well.” He growled.  
“It wasn’t me for fuck sake!” She spat back.  
“Lying won’t save you now.” For once, Myranda glimpsed fear in Ramsay’s eyes. She swallowed nervously and hesitated before following him into the house. Roose was waiting for them at the stairs. “Father, please I…”   
“No excuses Ramsay. I warned you what would happen.” Roose purred. Ramsay pursed his lips, looking fearfully at his father. “Come on, both of you. We have a long day ahead.” Roose Bolton led the way down the stairs with the two teenagers following behind, though they felt more like two naughty children. With every step Myranda took, she felt the walls close in around her, making the staircase seem darker and danker. She swallowed nervously when she noticed Ramsay clinging to the bannister to hold himself up. At the bottom of the stairs, Roose opened a narrow door and stepped inside. Neither Ramsay nor Myranda hesitated for a second. They stepped into the black, windowless room. It confused the senses. It was so dark, you could see nothing. Any sound made echoed, meaning that anyone who entered would be unsure where the sound was coming from. Only the scent of the room was clear. Myranda wrinkled her nose. The smell of sweat and blood hung in the cold air, along with another scent that was almost tangible. Fear. She heard the door as it was slammed shut. Her blood ran cold as the bolts slid home.

Ramsay squinted as his father turned on the light. He trembled slightly. “You first Ramsay.” Roose ordered. Ramsay approached the cross. “You,” Roose spoke to Myranda. “Go sit in that corner. Watch and learn what happens to those who cross me.” Ramsay heard Myranda shuffle over to a corner of the room. He thought he heard her whimper. Ramsay turned to face his father when he reached the cross, waiting for his father’s next instruction. “Shirt off.” Roose’s words were no higher than a whisper, but Ramsay followed the order all the same. “Turn around.” Ramsay did. “Where did you get these marks?” Roose asked, tracing his pale finger over the red lines made by the whip.  
“You.” Ramsay muttered. Roose gently turned his son around. “Of course.” He said. Before Ramsay had time to notice the cold malice in his father’s eyes, the fist made contact with his jaw. “I’ve always known you were a liar bastard, but I thought you may have learnt something since your mother overdosed and I had to take you in. I thought I’d taught you to lie better than that. And I thought I taught you to never lie to me.” Roose’s voice never increased in volume, not even in anger. “Get up on that cross, back facing me. Let me remind you what marks I make.” Ramsay did not argue. He was too consumed with fear. This room was the only place that he felt it, and it was his father’s hand that was always the cause.   
Roose bound his arms and legs to the cross. Ramsay was tall enough so that his face fit through the gap, but that did not make it any more comfortable. He was forced to keep his back straight, even more so when he felt the edge of his father’s blade slide up and down his spine. He felt the cold metal begin to trace the marks made by the whip, as though his father was searching them for the answer. Roose continued to drag his flaying knife across Ramsay’s back until he felt the bastard begin to tremble. “Now tell me bastard, who made these marks?” He asked.  
“I swear, it was you father.” Ramsay replied.  
“Wrong. I don’t use the whip. That’s not my practise.” Ramsay cried out as he felt the knife slip beneath his skin. It was a most peculiar feeling. At first, you only get a sense that something has pierced the flesh and is moving beneath it. Then comes the pain. It stings at first, but then it begins to burn and itch. His father always makes sure to run the edge of the blade up and down the tissue, to irritate it further.  
Ramsay screamed at the familiar pain.  
Roose cut away the flap of flesh and let it fall to the floor.   
“The truth now, who was it that whipped you?” He asked again.  
“You did.” Ramsay growled the answer in obvious frustration.  
“Once again, you are wrong!” Roose’s voice was dangerously quiet now. He was growing tired of his son’s lies. He slipped the knife beneath the skin again. “No! Wait, please father! I’m not lying! It was you! I swear it!” Ramsay cried.  
“I still don’t believe you.” Roose continued to pull the knife, peeling away the flesh.  
“I swear it on Reek’s life!” Ramsay screamed.  
The knife stopped moving.   
Roose yanked Ramsay’s head back by the hair so he could just about see into his eyes. He knew the boy spoke the truth, he could see it. But he also knew that it hadn’t been him. “You are absolutely sure it was me. It couldn’t have been someone else?” Roose asked, letting go of his son’s hair and rubbing his chin thoughtfully.  
“It was you. You heard Reek screaming. It woke you up. You came and threw Myranda out, then you took me down here.” The words poured from Ramsay’s mouth. He would gladly have reminded his father what he was doing to Reek if it meant he wasn’t flayed anymore. Fortunately, his father didn’t ask. Ramsay didn’t hear him as he stepped up behind him. He didn’t even notice the straps on his arms being cut away. It wasn’t until he landed on his back that he realised his father had cut him loose. He cried out when his head began to pound and he could taste blood in his mouth. Roose didn’t hear him. Instead, he turned to Myranda. “Your turn, whore.”

_***_

_It took a minute for Jeyne to work out where she was. Her vision was blurred and all she saw was a face; a large face, grotesquely warped. But it was sad. The tears that ran down its cheeks were a deep red. It dribbled too. Eventually, her vision cleared and she realised she was lying beside the Weirwood tree. The Weirwood tree in the gangs den. When she tried to sit up, she was pulled back down by something around her neck. Jeyne began to sob when she realised it was a noose. She wrapped her fingers around the rope and tried to pull it. But someone pulled back. “Don’t do that, you’ll ruin the fun.” She heard Damon say. She tilted her head up to see him. He smiled cruelly at her. She began to cry again. “Don’t cry.” He growled, pulling on the noose again. “If you cry, I’ll hang you from the Weirwood tree, our den could do with a new accessory.” Jeyne bit her lip to stop herself from crying. Though would hanging truly be so bad? She was sure she would die anyway. At least she’d be with her mother and father then, and they would no doubt be with the dead Starks. But then Sansa would be alone. Jeyne couldn’t bear to leave her to face the world alone. “You’ll do no such thing Damon, Myranda said that we could all have our fun. Ben got his, so did Sour Alyn. You’ve had your turn scaring her. It’s my turn now.” Growled Skinner who appeared from the bushes._   
_“Fine, but the noose stays on.” Damon snapped._   
_“Fine.” Jeyne watched Damon move away. She squirmed as Skinner approached. “Keep hold of the end of that rope Damon, I’ll need something to hold her down.” Skinner knelt down beside her. Jeyne stopped squirming when she felt the noose tighten another inch. He smiled down at her. “I’m going to enjoy this.” He laughed. “Stay very, very still Jeyne. I wouldn’t want to slip. You don’t want to be strangled to death either.” Skinner unsheathed a knife. He brushed the blade over her thigh. Jeyne whimpered when she thought he would keep going up. But he stopped at the bottom of her dress. His eyes never left hers as he cut away at the fabric. Jeyne tried to stay as still as she could, but it was as if her body had a mind of its own. Every time she felt the metal scrape against her skin, she would twitch uncontrollably. Skinner would hiss._

_Several cuts and scrapes later, he had her down to her underwear. “Perfect.” He breathed. “Now, which part to flay first?” He asked himself._   
_“You’ve had way longer than anyone else. It’s not fair!” Moaned Damon._   
_“Ramsay said I could skin her. You should have picked a better game. It’s not my fault you are too stupid to have an imagination.” Skinner spat._   
_“Fuck off. I could have gone on for way longer, you interrupted!” Skinner ignored Damon and returned to Jeyne. He slid the edge of his knife over her pale skin, trying to make up his mind. Finally, he settled for the shoulder. “Remember Jeyne, don’t move.” He reminded her. Jeyne nodded. She was too afraid to do anything else. She could feel the knife slide beneath her skin. Then the pain came. She tried to cringe away from it, but Damon tightened the noose. She was forced to lie still while Skinner peeled away the flesh and her shoulder burned. “Please make it stop! Please!” She screamed._   
_“That’s enough now Skinner.” Came Ramsay’s voice. He appeared a few moments later. Skinner hesitated for a moment; he didn’t want the fun to end. But Ramsay wasn’t someone you wanted to argue with. Jeyne knew that better than anyone. Skinner stood up. Ramsay moved closer and looked down at her. He smiled. “I see you’ve got her ready for me.” Jeyne whimpered as Myranda and Reek appeared behind him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not writing anything the past few days. I had three essays to write and two days to write them as I went back to college yesterday. But I have another week off and no homework to do now so YAY!!! More writing about torture and vengeful spirits for me :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myranda's meeting with Roose just gets worse and worse.  
> Jeyne meets her end, or is it her beginning?

Never turning away from Myranda, Roose Bolton checked his watch. “It’s time for you to go and pick up your pet from school bastard. Come back in here the moment you return.” He said matter-of-factly. For once, Ramsay felt obliged to try and protect someone. “Father, it’s early actually. Perhaps I should…”  
“Perhaps you should walk slowly.” Roose never took his eyes off of Myranda. Ramsay sighed. What other choice did he have? Myranda was too afraid to look at him so his look of apology wasn’t acknowledged. When he reached the door, he stopped. He hesitated a moment before he spoke. “Please, don’t kill her father.” He muttered. Roose didn’t look at him. Myranda began to tremble.. Then he approached her. She curled into a shaking ball. She remembered all of this so well, though it hadn’t been Roose. It had been her father, and his friends. Myranda whimpered and flinched when Roose crouched down beside her. “I know your mother.” He said, though Myranda knew what he really meant.  
“You’ve fucked my mother you mean.” She spat without thinking. Roose showed no intention of hitting her before he did. She had much to learn.

Reek waited by the gate for his master. He knew not to walk home by himself, even though he would never dream of running away. Where would he run to? Reek had no other home. His home was his master and wherever his master dwelled, so did his creature.  
But today, for a second, just a second, there had been a glimpse of someone else. A ghost come back. For a second, one of Theon’s memories had resurfaced.  
The thought of it made Reek whine to himself.  
He had been on his way to his first class. He was late. He couldn’t be late. If Mr Bolton was told, he would tell Master.  
Reek shivered.  
He had taken a shortcut that took him through the reception. There had been a girl sitting in there, waiting for someone. Reek recognised her as the new girl that had been watching him yesterday. She was holding a bloodied tissue to her nose, but dropped it as though in shock for a moment. Theon, not Reek (he would never be so bad), stopped. He stared at her. He knew that girl. Her pretty blue eyes and her high, elegant cheekbones. But something was missing. The hair. The hair was the wrong colour; brown, not red.  
Theon gasped as he realised he was staring into the face of Sansa Stark.  
She must have noticed the look of realisation on his face, for she had quickly gotten up and hurried into the bathroom.  
Reek had carried on to class, though he had to attempt a run so as not to be late.  
He’d tried his best to keep Theon’s memories and thoughts at the back of his mind. But the thought of her made it so hard.  
Then he would remember another girl. Sansa’s friend. Her name rhymed with pain, like Reek rhymed with leak.  
Reek felt a tear slide down his face.  
“What the fuck are you crying about?” Ramsay growled. Reek yelped at the sound of his voice. He hadn’t noticed his Master’s presence! How dare he! Reek began to tremble when he realised Ramsay was in a dreadful mood. “Come on. We need to go.” His Master snapped. Reek followed obediently behind.

Roose moved away from the cowering Myranda. He went and sat down on his chair, fiddling idly with the arm rest. “Yes. I did fuck her.” He replied. Myranda said nothing. She wanted to make some sarcastic comment, perhaps that he should go to the doctor and get checked out. But she didn’t. “I know that they say the son is the shadow of the father, not that I agree with that of course, but I do sometimes wonder, does the same saying stand for a mother and her daughter?” The corner of Roose’s mouth twitched upwards, he could be smiling but it was hard to tell. Myranda frowned. “I…I don’t know what you want from me?” She asked fearfully, though part of her already knew.  
“I want to conduct a little experiment. Is a daughter like her mother? As you can imagine, I know very little of your mother. But what I do know is that she was very good.” Myranda’s eyes grew wide with fear and realisation. Roose leaned forward. “But are you better?” He asked. She was sure of the smile this time. “My son seems to think you worthy of living. I would have settled at watching that little film you made, but as you are intent in denying it was you, I’m going to need solid proof. Now come on, get on with it. Climb on me. Ride me. Everyone knows that you aren’t a virgin.” Roose said, casually undoing his trousers. Myranda stood up on shaky legs. She felt like a little girl again. It was not Roose Bolton she was hearing or seeing, it was her father. His mates were around him, drunk and high, egging her on. She didn’t know if it was them undressing her or if she was doing it herself. She could not shake them from her head. Her father sat in front of her, waiting. She cried. She always cried. Her mother called her weak. Her father called her pathetic, but he seemed content to have her anyway. She didn’t take off her skirt. Her father preferred it that way, as though it needed to be done quickly. Although it never went quick enough for Myranda. The fact that they did it this way would remind her father that this was forbidden.  
Sick.  
Twisted.  
That thought only make him want her more.  
Myranda’s eyes were shut when she reached Roose, but she felt his pale cold fingers slide around her wrist. “Open your eyes whore. I want to see the fear and shame you feel in them.” He whispered. Myranda opened her eyes. She met his cold, icy gaze. She gasped when he pulled her down suddenly so that she was on top of him. “Please don’t make me do this! Please, I’ll do anything you want, I swear! I’ll do anything!” She begged. It was fruitless. Roose’s long white fingers gripped her wrist tighter. He began to twist his hand, causing her wrist to burn. She understood. There was no way out of this. He never let go of her wrist as she straddled him. He moved very little, sometimes giving, rising with her. But only when he wanted to. Myranda understood this too. He saw her as a whore. It was her job to please him.  
So, despite being afraid and horrified, she tried.  
The son was the shadow of the father, so she did what made Ramsay happy. That seemed to work, so she breathed a sigh of relief. Then she felt repulsed. This man was forcing her to outdo her own mother. Myranda had experienced many twisted and unnatural things in her life, but this beat them all. Her mother was to blame. Her mother was always to blame. All the powerful men had houses, names. Myranda had none, though if she did, their sigil would probably be a naked woman, perhaps being beaten or fucked by a man. Their words would be ‘we fuck to survive’ or something like that. Yeah, that sounded about right.  
Myranda was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice Roose was done with her until he pushed her off of him into the floor. She gasped as her head hit the ground. She watched in disgust as Roose did his trousers back up, as though none of it had happened. Myranda felt a pain in her wrist and looked at the red weal caused by his grip. “You hurt me.” She mumbled childishly.  
“That is what you get, when you lie to me.” Roose replied, looking down at her.  
“When did I lie?” She asked. He confused her. Ramsay was straight forward, to her at least. He would punish you for something, or perhaps he would play a game. But Roose, he punished in his own way. It was never clear what was the game and what was the punishment. Myranda hadn’t realised this. She had thought the son was the shadow of the father.  
She never realised Roose was more intelligent than his son.  
“For saying that it wasn’t you in the video, or the photos.” He said, longing for the denial to come again.  
“I didn’t lie! It wasn’t me!” She cried. She knew she couldn’t lie, he would know. She yelped as he moved swiftly from his chair, crouching down in front of her.  
“Dear little whore,” He whispered, taking one of her trembling hands in his own. He turned it over so that they were palm to palm. “Don’t ever think that you can lie to me.” Roose growled. From his other hand, he revealed a peculiar knife. Its blade was no longer than an inch, and very thin too. It came to a point in the centre, like a tiny little dagger. Myranda hardly had time to notice any of this before Roose grasped her hand tighter and drove the knife beneath one of her fingernails. As Myranda howled in agony, Ramsay opened the door and came in. His father didn’t acknowledge his arrival. Instead, he twisted the blade, prying the fingernail off.

Ramsay was glad to find her still alive, but (for once) he was horrified. It was clear what had happened. Myranda’s school blouse lay discarded a few feet from where they were on the floor, as were her knickers. Her skirt had ridden, or been pulled, high enough to expose her beneath. “Father, please, surely this is enough?” Ramsay’s voice was pleading.  
“Stay exactly where you are bastard, I am going to hear the whore confess.” Roose’s voice never increased its volume, but it made Ramsay too scared to move all the same. Ramsay was forced to watch as another one of Myranda’s finger nails was pried away.  
Before Roose could begin on the third fingernail however, his phone began to ring.

_***_

_Jeyne wasn’t sure why she was expecting anything else. Her night had been filled with terror enough already, and Ramsay hadn’t even started yet. But she had been hoping…Ramsay had loved her once, hadn’t he? Before Myranda had come? And Theon, she had grown up with Theon. Surely he would save her?_  
 _He never took his eyes off of Ramsay._  
 _Ramsay moved towards her. Jeyne struggled away from him, pain forming in her leg from a dog bite and the noose tightened around her neck. She stopped. Ramsay grinned maliciously down at her. Myranda stepped up behind him. “You know what you must do? She cannot be pure. She must in no way be a maiden.” Jeyne heard her whisper in his ear. His grin stretched. He knew she was no maid, but he wouldn’t pass up on such an opportunity. He moved away from Myranda, who watched him as though he were her creation, marvelling at his willingness, of the control she had over him. He knelt down beside Jeyne, his face feigning innocence and kindness. Though she longed to believe it, Jeyne knew the face was false. He reached up, stroking the side of her face, before moving his hand down to the noose around her neck. Jeyne whimpered as he yanked it. She closed her eyes and was almost disappointed when he pulled the rope over her head. He smiled down at her for a moment, then began to try and roll her onto her front. “No, please! Ramsay! If you have any love in your heart for me, please, let me go! I won’t tell anyone about this. I will seek no vengeance, if you let me live!” She begged._  
 _Laughter echoed around the woods._  
 _“Love?” Ramsay asked incredulously. “I never loved you! You were…how should I put this…an amusement. A challenging one at that. Anyone would think you had all the gold in Casterly bank stuffed between your legs considering how long it took for me to get you to spread them. And now that I’ve done that…” Ramsay forced her roughly onto her front and tore off her knickers. Climbing on top of her, he leant forward and whispered in her ear “I’ve grown bored.” She screamed as he thrust violently into her. The men stood around her, laughing and cheering, egging Ramsay on. She glimpsed up at Myranda who smiled down at her. But, in a single second, she glimpsed something else. A secret. She could almost see into her mind. Myranda was blocking out the noise of the men. For a moment, it were as though she were watching it happen to someone else._  
 _For a moment, Jeyne saw sadness. Then it was gone as soon as it had come._  
 _Jeyne continued to shriek with pain as Ramsay flipped her over as though she were no heavier than a ragdoll. He plunged into her again, as though she were an enemy he was stabbing with a broadsword. He held her wrists down so she couldn’t try to hit him. She looked over at Theon who was now hiding behind the Weirwood tree. “Theon! Theon please! Save me! I beg you! After everything we’ve been through, don’t let me die here! Please Theon…” She begged, but Theon wasn’t listening. Reek was. “Not Theon! Reek! Reek, it rhymes with meek, weak, sneak!” Reek cried. Ramsay groaned as he climaxed. He pulled himself out of Jeyne. “Very good my pet. How well trained you are!” He said. Jeyne felt as though she were about to be sick when Reek crawled over to his master and began to rub his head affectionately up and down his master’s leg. “Let’s get this finished.” Myranda snarled. The boys moved in. Sour Alyn and Ben held down her arms. Damon and Skinner sat on her legs. Ramsay held down her head, holding a scrap of strangely scented cloth over her mouth to muffle the screams._  
 _Myranda climbed on top of her. She unsheathed her dagger. She muttered a prayer in some foreign tongue that she did not understand, perhaps it wasn’t a real language at all. Perhaps this ritual thing was just an excuse to get rid of her._  
 _Whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore._  
 _Jeyne’s eyes widened in a frenzy of fear as Myranda raised the dagger high over her head. Jeyne’s struggles ceased when it pierced her skin. A darkness filled her, as Myranda smiled and carved her heart from her chest._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to sure how I feel about this chapter. I'm just a bit 'meh' about it. But it got me to where I need to be, so I suppose it'll do.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite being saved by the phone call, the news Roose receives affects them all.  
> Myranda and the gang complete the ritual. What they do not know is that they are being watched.

Neither of the teenagers moved whilst Roose Bolton answered his phone. They kept their eyes on him. Not daring to look at each other. “What is it Walton? I’m a bit busy right now, can’t it wait?” Roose Bolton looked up at his son when he heard what Constable Walton had to say. “Very well, I’ll be there within half an hour.” He said, hanging up. “Get dressed, you’re coming too.” He said to Myranda.  
“What has happened father?” Ramsay asked, worried. Where was his father taking them now? “You’ll see when we get there. Sort out her fingers and bring your pet too.” He ordered, gliding from the room as though he had not just been forcing a teenage girl to straddle him on a chair a few minutes ago. “You alright?” Ramsay asked Myranda once Roose had gone. Myranda nodded, pulling on her knickers. “Come on, I’ll help you clean up your fingers.” He continued by way of an apology. Myranda said nothing, she just followed him from the room.

For once, Ramsay showed kindness, and for once Myranda accepted it gladly. He made her sit on the sideboard in the kitchen, he even cleaned and bandaged up her fingers for her. They said nothing while he worked. “It wasn’t me you know, on the video. I went home yesterday after we argued.” She admitted. Ramsay wasn’t sure what to say. Something in her voice told him she was speaking the truth, but it had been her. “I think someone is pretending to be me. Remember I told you that Violet had said she’d seen me, then I was followed home. And yesterday morning, there were words written on the side of the tunnel. ‘I’m here’. They were written on the mirror of the toilets when I found the photos too. And then Palla said someone had been rehearsing my part and that they looked like me. I thought it was Alayne but Miss Hornwood said she left school early. I think someone is trying to fuck with me.” Myranda confessed everything. Ramsay listened. “Reek’s been acting weird too. He’s been waking up in the middle of the night, screaming. He won’t listen to me when I tell him to be quiet, not even when I threaten him. It takes knocking him out and waiting for him to regain consciousness to snap him out of it, and he could never remember what scared him.” He admitted. Myranda frowned. That wasn’t like Reek. He always did as he was told. They said no more. Ramsay led the way out of the kitchen and called for his pet, who came running. Moments later, Roose appeared again in clean clothes, a long black coat over the top. “Let’s go shall we?” He asked, though they all knew that it wasn’t a question.

Ramsay knew where they were headed the moment they left the city behind them. But why? Why was Constable Walton at Ben’s house? Unless…  
Had Ben told the police?  
The boy was always quiet, but he was one of Ramsay’s closest friends. He didn’t think he would betray him. Nevertheless, there were several police cars pulled up outside Ben’s house, as well as an ambulance. “Father, what’s going on?” He asked nervously.  
“You’ll see soon enough.” Roose got out of the car.  
“Stay Reek, I’ll come back for you once I know it is safe.” Ramsay said. Reek nodded. Myranda and Ramsay got out of the car. Night was closing in so Myranda wrapped her arms around herself. It didn’t provide much warmth though. Feeling strangely guilty, Ramsay wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Winter is coming.” He said, a smile coming to his lips.  
“Let’s not speak of the dead.” Myranda joked. Ramsay laughed.  
The joke soon turned sour.  
Roose Bolton, as the town’s coroner, regularly found himself being called out to death scenes. He had seen his fair share of them. None of them bothered him. Ramsay had accompanied him a few times. He supposed his father had hoped for him to gain some fear or a sense of respect for the finality of death.  
The boy never did.  
Never. Until today.  
Ramsay’s blood ran cold the moment he saw the body that had been covered up with a bloodied sheet. As he and Myranda approached, he spotted a hand dangling down. If a hand was what it could be called. Five bloody stumps were all that remained of fingers and a part of the wrist had been chewed away. He found his father standing with Walton beside the body. He did not need to pull the sheet back for them to know who it was. Ben’s parents had left town a few months ago. They had never come back. Ben lived alone in the old farm house, apart from his beloved dogs of course.  
“How did he die?” Asked Ramsay, staring at the sheet.  
“Mauled by his dogs by the looks of things.” Roose Bolton replied, peering underneath the sheet.  
“That’s what we thought too, then we noticed some of the bite marks weren’t caused by dogs.” Walton replied, pulling back the sheet. Neither Ramsay nor Myranda cowered from the sight. They had seen worse. “Well what were they caused by then?” Roose asked, scanning the body with his cold gaze.  
“Well, this bite here is one of them. It seems to be human.” Walton informed, as though it weren’t unusual at all.  
“Have them take the body to the morgue. I’ll go and take a look at the scene.” Roose ordered.  
“Right you are sir.” Constable Walton replied, striding off and barking orders like the loyal dog he was.  
“Where are the kennels Ramsay?” Roose asked. Ramsay pointed to the back of the house and Roose began walking. The two teens followed behind him in silence, mourning the loss of their friend. The back of the house was a scene of further devastation. Bits of blood and flesh clung to the wire of the large kennel. The dogs had been taken away and would no doubt be put down. “I don’t understand. Ben loved his dogs, and they were always pretty fond of him too. His dogs were loyal. They would never attack their master.” Ramsay voiced his thoughts.  
“Not unless provoked.” Roose replied bluntly. It was then that Ramsay felt Myranda tug on his sleeve. “What?” He turned to her. She looked as though she had seen a ghost. “Over there.” She whispered, staring over Ramsay’s shoulder. He turned around.  
On the wall, the words ‘I’m here’ had been written in blood.  
At that moment, a shout went up from the other side of the house.  
“SOMEONE CALL THE FIRE BRIGADE!”  
Without waiting for orders from Roose, Ramsay began to run. He had the worst feeling. A ball of dread began to expand in his stomach. As Ramsay rounded the corner of the house, he looked around. Yes there was a fire.  
Ramsay heard Reek screaming inside the burning shell of Roose Bolton’s car.

_***_

_None of them looked at her. Well, they were looking at her, but not_ her _. She watched Myranda as she stood up, blood up to her elbows. She lifted up the heart for them all to see. Some of them cheered. Some of them just stared at the gleaming ball of blood, mesmerized. Myranda smiled. “What now?” Damon asked.  
“Now, we finish the ritual. Build a fire, then pick whichever part you wish.” Her smile spread into a smirk._

_Jeyne sat with them as they roasted the chosen parts of her body. It was odd watching them. She should feel repulsed. She felt nothing. She should feel sad. She felt nothing. “Reek, you may have the honour of putting the heart on the fire.” Myranda smiled sweetly, as though she had just offered him a sweet._   
_“Thank you my lady.” He muttered._   
_She felt something as she watched her heart burn. It began in her chest first, spreading through her body, burning, causing her to scream, not that they heard. The heat built with an intensity that consumed her. It consumed anything that made her who she was and left one thing in its place._   
_She stood up and walked over to each and every one of them, whispering in each ear the same words._   
_“I’m going to kill you all.”_   
_She smiled when she saw them shudder._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to include the...um...cannibalism. But I just thought, fuck it! Give Jeyne another reason to want them all dead XD


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay tries to save his pet. Myranda's night of terror is still not at an end, with horror coming from all sides.

Myranda was too late by the time she reached the front of the house. She saw Ramsay running towards the burning car, screaming Reek’s name. She ran after him, screaming his name, telling him to stop. Not that he heard. When she reached the car, Ramsay had thrown open the door and was trying to climb inside. “Please help me! Don’t let her get me please!” She heard Reek screaming.  
There it was again. He’d said ‘her’.  
Despite the heat of the fire, Myranda felt cold, as though it were icy water running through her veins. She looked around. Someone must have started the fire, they can’t have gotten far. She glimpsed movement on the other side of the burning car. She froze in fear when she stared into the face through the flames.

Ramsay ignored the flames that licked at his arms. The moment he managed to get hold of a scrap of Reek (he wasn’t sure if it was skin or clothing) he pulled. Reek continued to scream and thrash as Ramsay pulled him through the flames. Moments later, they were both outside the car, coughing and spluttering on the grass. Ramsay quickly beat out the flames on his trouser leg and went to his pet. “It’s alright Reek, you’re safe.” He tried to soothe. But Reek had that look in his eye; the look of impenetrable fear. He continued to convulse and whine on the floor. Ramsay grabbed him and shook him by the shoulders. “Don’t let her hurt me! Oh please! Don’t let her!” Reek screamed.   
“Who Reek? Who was trying to hurt you?” Ramsay growled.  
“Ramsay?” Myranda whimpered, touching him on the shoulder.  
“Not now!” He shrugged her off.  
“Ramsay!” She cried again. Ramsay looked up at her, sensing the urgency. Myranda wasn’t looking at him. Ramsay stood up and followed her gaze. In the flames, he saw a face. Then he noticed she wasn’t in the flames, she was on the other side of them.  
She smiled a cruel smile Ramsay had never seen her do before. But it wasn’t her smile that caught his attention. The hood of her bloodied green jumper was pulled up over her matted brown hair, but you could just about see her eyes. They weren’t _her_ eyes though. Gone were the soft brown eyes, so full of innocence and naivety that Ramsay had always wanted to gouge them out. Instead, her eyes were a deep bottomless pit of black. They glinted maliciously in the night, the flames reflected in them. They did not plead, nor beg for an apology. Ramsay could see it now; they wanted vengeance. They wanted their lives. “It’s not possible…we…we…” Myranda whispered. Both of them were unable to move, frozen to the spot in shock.  
She continued to smile and stare at them through the flames.  
Ramsay felt a tugging at the bottom of his trousers. He looked down to see Reek peering up at him, crying hysterically. “Jeyne! It was Jeyne!” He wailed. When Ramsay looked back into the flames, Jeyne had gone. 

Due to the burns and the smoke they had inhaled, both Ramsay and Reek were taken to the hospital. That left Myranda alone. With Roose. She waited for him while he dealt with his business and his car, which was beyond saving. “No matter, Walton will take us home.” He told her once he was done. Myranda breathed a sigh of relief. As long as Constable Walton was there, he couldn’t touch her.  
Or so she thought.  
Roose sat beside her in the backseat, she had a sneaking suspicion as to why. It was confirmed a few moments later when Roose placed his hand on her knee. Myranda readied herself to cry out, and bring the inappropriate touching to the Constables attention. But Roose spoke first. “Fine, go ahead and tell my friend Walton, if I’m feeling kind, I might just let him have a go.” He smiled. Myranda shuddered as Walton looked over his shoulder at her and mirrored the thin-lipped grin. She endured it. Luckily, it went no further than him running his hand over her thigh and a little up her skirt. Nevertheless, she was for once thrilled to see the tower block that was her home. She opened the door before the car had even stopped, but yelped when Roose grabbed her arm, pulling her back in. “You will tell no one of what you’ve seen today, understand me whore?” He asked.  
“Yes Mr Bolton.” She muttered, though her mind had drifted elsewhere.  
“And you will accompany my son tomorrow to Mr Baelish’s home where you will apologise for your behaviour this morning and beg for both his and Alayne’s forgiveness. Ramsay will text you when he is outside. Now get out.” He ordered. Myranda obeyed instantly and watched as the car sped away into the night. She stood there for a moment, unsure of what she should be doing. Perhaps she was still in shock? Almost without realizing, she began to walk towards the tower block. Violet was standing outside with a fag. “Hope you aren’t going to go up them stairs making a racket again.” She growled.  
“It wasn’t me!” Myranda cried. She hurried away as tears began to slide down her cheeks. How was this possible? How was any of this possible? They had _killed_ her. She was dead. Myranda had torn her heart out with her own hands. They had cooked and eaten parts of the body.  
But it had been her. Jeyne. She had been there. She had set fire to the car, Reek had said so; he had been dragged away by the paramedics muttering her name. No doubt she had murdered Ben too.  
But something about her was different. There were the eyes of course. But the way she smiled, the way she looked at them promising no mercy. None of that was Jeyne. It couldn’t have been the ritual could it? She had searched it up online, just for a laugh, just for some fun. It wasn’t meant to have worked…  
Did this mean it was Jeyne that had been pretending to be her? How was that even possible?  
That last question was ridiculous. Jeyne was dead. None of this was supposed to be possible.

Her mother wasn’t in when she reached the flat. She breathed another sigh of relief. After what Roose had done to her today, she didn’t think she could face her. She didn’t even feel like drinking this evening. Instead, she sat in her room, jumping at every sound that she could hear. The question in her mind remained unanswered. Was it Jeyne pretending to be her? Or was it someone else? Was it a ghost? Or was it a human? She needed a way to be certain.  
With her mind made up, she went to the kitchen draw and pulled out a pair of scissors. She cleaned them first and made sure that they were sharp enough before returning to her bedroom. People needed to be able to tell her apart from her other self. Sitting down in front of her dirty mirror, she lifted the first lock of hair and began to cut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look how merciful I was, letting Reek live! He still has a part to play, Jeyne wants to play a game.  
> And I am probably going to pick on Myranda for the next few chapters, just because I found out she's going to be in Season five. If they get rid of Jeyne in favour of Myranda, I am going to scream...well...scream and write more stories XD


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myranda and Ramsay head off to a meeting with Mr Baelish.  
> Theon has a dream.

The weather was as miserable as his mood. Ramsay watched his father’s borrowed car drive away, leaving him outside Myranda’s house. He pulled out his phone and texted her to let her know he was waiting outside. The waiting just reminded him of how alone he felt without his Reek beside him. His pet, although poor company (at least in public), had almost become a part of him. It felt as though he had lost a limb. He even sometimes forgot that his missing Reek wasn’t there and turned to talk to him. He grew angry when he remembered that Reek was in hospital.  
After his burns had been seen to and the doctor gave him the all clear, Ramsay had rushed to his pets side and had not left him for the entire night. Reek didn’t wake up. He had been put under general aesthetic while they saw to his wounds. Ramsay had badgered the nurses constantly, asking when he would wake up and threatening them when they wouldn’t answer with precise times. He had asked one if it was likely he would never wake up. She had said it was incredibly rare for death to occur. Ramsay regretted asking the question.  
When morning came, his father had arrived to find him still awake and by Reek’s side. At first, the boy had refused to go anywhere at first, but with a bit of persuasion and several threats, Ramsay had followed Roose from the hospital and grudgingly into the car, where he worried constantly about the fragile state of his pet. “If you looked after him better, he would be more likely to live.” His father pointed out. Ramsay had said nothing in reply, but made a mental note to feed his pet better when he woke up.  
If he woke up.  
The thought of his pet dying made Ramsay shudder. He lit a cigarette to clear his mind of it.  
Then he remembered what was waiting behind the worry for his pet. Those black eyes peered through the mists of his mind now. Another chill came through him and he looked around quickly, being certain to check if anyone was there. When he faced the tower block again, he did a double take. “What the fuck did you do to your hair?” He asked Myranda as she approached. She had cut it short so it stopped at her jawline. “I need to know if someone is trying to be me, or if it’s…” Her voice trailed off, not wishing to say the name.  
“Jeyne?” Ramsay whispered.  
“Yeah.” She muttered.  
“How does that make any sense?” He growled.  
“How does her coming back and trying to fry Reek in a car make any sense?” She spat back. Ramsay sighed and stamped out his cigarette. “Fair point.” He mumbled. They walked side by side to the bus stop. “How is Reek anyway? Has he said anything?” She asked.  
“He hasn’t even woken up.” He muttered, shoving his hands in his pocket to prevent them from shaking.  
“Oh.” Was Jeyne’s reply.

They stared in silence for a moment in disbelief and awe. “Are you sure this is the right house?” Myranda asked.  
“Father’s directions. This is it.” Ramsay replied, passing her the paper with Alayne’s address on it.  
“I did not expect her to live somewhere like this.” Myranda gasped. The house was huge and grand. There must’ve been at least five stories and the stone walls were aged, but stood strong and proud in the wind and rain. Myranda and Ramsay hurried forward, feeling increasingly shabby and out of place. They rang the doorbell and heard it call out ominously on the other side of the door, commanding the attention of its inhabitants. Moments later, a woman with long red hair answered the door. “Good morning, how can I help you?” She asked with a smile and a thick northern accent.  
“We…um…We are hear t…to see…” Ramsay stumbled. The woman was beautiful, and it appeared as though she knew it. Myranda glowered at the plunging neckline of the woman’s blouse that revealed her cleavage and the tight black trousers that showed her womanly figure. “Are you Ramsay Bolton?” She questioned, still smiling and not looking at Myranda. Ramsay nodded mutely. “Mr Baelish is expecting you both, do come in.” She said, stepping back and holding the door open. Myranda and Ramsay were once again shocked by the interior of the house. Where the outside was old and grand, the inside was modern and luxurious. “Follow me.” The red haired women said, leading the way up some stairs that curved around in a spiral. When Myranda glimpsed Ramsay staring at the woman’s arse as they ascended, she punched him sharply on the arm. When they reached the level where the woman stopped, Myranda was only irritated further. Women. Beautiful, fully grown women everywhere, cleaning and just loitering as though they had nothing better to do. She could almost feel Ramsay begin to sweat just looking at them. She wondered if he wanted to hunt them or fuck them. She hoped it was the latter option. “If you will take a seat over there, Mr Baelish will be with you once he has finished with his client.” She indicated to a plush sofa in the corner of the room. On second glance, the room appeared to be some sort of waiting area. Ramsay and Myranda sat down. “Girls, away!” The red head ordered once she caught Ramsay staring and Myranda glaring.  
“Over Reek already are you?” She growled.  
“Fuck off.” Ramsay snapped, earning a stern glance from the red haired woman.

This was some sort of trick. Reek writhed and squirmed, trying to shake off the memory. He tried to mutter his name. He was good Reek, loyal Reek, Reek would never EVER betray his master.  
But Reek, for a moment, wasn’t in control. Theon was.  
He was back home. Not Pyke, no. His real home. Winterfell. He was in the garden, playing with Robb and Jon. They were playing soldiers, hiding behind bushes with pretend guns in their hands. Theon was on Robb’s team, they were ganging up on Jon, as per usual. Mr and Mrs Stark sat on the patio, watching the boys play. Catelyn was bouncing baby Bran on her knee, making him giggle. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Arya ambushed Theon and Robb, knocking Theon to the floor with a burst of strength. “Run Jon! Run!” She cried. Jon laughed and ran for cover. “Arya!” Came a shout from the house. “Arya! You were supposed to be helping me and Jeyne make lemon cakes! Mum, look what she did! She dropped eggshells in the mixture.” Sansa whined, carrying the bowl over to her mother. Catelyn looked inside and tutted. “Never mind love, I’m sure you can fish them out.” Said Ned.  
“That’s not the point though! She ruined it on purpose! Didn’t she Jeyne?” Sansa turned and looked over her shoulder. Theon felt queasy at the sight of Jeyne. But her eyes were normal, her smile shy. “Um…yeah…she did.” Jeyne admitted nervously. Theon smiled, then yelped as he felt something grab him and push him down from behind. “Shh, stay down! Stay covered!” Robb ordered, shoving him behind the bush.  
“Why?” Theon gasped.  
“Winter is coming.” Robb replied eerily. Theon frowned and shivered. “What do you mean?” He asked.  
“Winter is coming!” Came a voice from the other side of the bush. Several other voices took up the cry. When Theon peeked up over the bush, he was horrified. Everyone was in the same place they had been, but they were different. For one thing, Ned Stark no longer had a head. Catelyn’s throat was slit from ear to ear, blood flowed down, soaking her clothes. But she continued to smile as though nothing was wrong. Little Bran was no longer recognisable; his skin was burnt, still smoking, his mouth was open but it did not move. Theon could still hear his laughter. He looked at Arya next and whimpered. Her hair was cut short, and she was covered in blood from head to heel. He could just about see Jon from behind the bush. Several knives stuck out of him. He continued to smile and laugh. “Robb? Robb, what is going on?” Theon wailed. He screamed when he turned to see Robb’s head replaced by that of a wolf. “You forgot your name.” Came Ramsay’s voice from nowhere.  
“What? No! I didn’t! I am good Reek! Loyal Reek! This is just a dream!” Reek wailed, looking about to catch sight of his master. His eyes stopped on Jeyne and Sansa. “You forgot your name. You should never forget your name. Do you remember what I promised I would do to you if you forgot your name?” It was Ramsay’s voice, but Jeyne and Sansa’s mouths moved in sync with it. Reek screamed when Sansa produced a gelding knife from behind her back, and Jeyne revealed a flaying knife. “No! Please! I am loyal Reek! I am good! I am grateful! I am Reek, it rhymes with weak!” He screamed. But Sansa and Jeyne weren’t listening.  
They approached him, and as they did, they began to change.  
Sansa’s hair turned from red to brown and she became Alayne; her face was hard and aged, the years of death and grief taking its toll.  
And Jeyne. Jeyne’s eyes turned from brown to black. Her hair became matted and blood soaked. Her denim jacket was filthy, her dress beneath it torn. Her green hoodie was unzipped, revealing a deep empty gash beneath. There was no heart. Jeyne was heartless. She smiled wickedly.  
Reek sat up screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww writing that bit with the modern Stark family made me so happy that I just had to go and make a creepy dream where they are all dead but still alive out of it.  
> You're welcome.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay and Myranda learn some things from Mr Baelish. Reek's nightmares continue.

Ramsay and Myranda continued to bicker in hushed voices until they heard the door to Mr Baelish’s office open. “Thank you for your help Mr Baelish.” Myranda and Ramsay froze. They knew that voice all too well. “You are very welcome Mrs Ryswell, if there is anything else I can do to help, please, do let me know.” Came Mr Baelish’s soft voice. Moments later, Mrs Ryswell stepped out of the office. Her eyes met Ramsay’s and her gaze became a glare. “What are you two doing here?” She asked sharply. Ramsay was about to snap back, but Mr Baelish intervened. “I am most glad to see you both Mr Bolton, Miss Royce. Please, come in. Mrs Ryswell, Ros will see you out.” Mr Baelish smiled at the three of them, his eyes dismissing any argument. Mrs Ryswell stood a little taller and followed Ros from the room without looking at them. Mr Baelish turned to the two youths and gave them a look that commanded them to follow him. Ramsay glanced quickly at the stairs to make sure Mrs Ryswell had gone before following Mr Baelish into the room. “What was she doing here?” He asked rudely. Mr Baelish closed the door and gestured towards two leather chairs. “I’m afraid I am not at liberty to share the information and details of other clients. Company policy.” Mr Baelish smiled as he sat down in front of them. He was a somewhat plain man. His hair was streaked with grey, he was neither tall nor small but he had eyes that made assumptions, judgements and calculations about a person’s character.  Ramsay made a face and slumped in his chair. “Now, what is it that I can do for you both?” Mr Baelish asked, placing his hands on the desk and locking them together.  
“My dad told us to come here.” Ramsay mumbled.  
“I suppose you have come to apologise to Alayne?” Mr Baelish suggested. Myranda just nodded. Mr Baelish narrowed his eyes, scanning the two sulking teens. “Ros!” He called out. A few moments later, the red haired woman appeared at the door, her face flushed from hurrying around. “Yes Mr Baelish?” She asked.  
“When Alayne returns from her run, send her to me will you?” It was clear that it wasn’t a question,  
“Yes Mr Baelish.” Ros nodded and left the room. Silence fell for a moment. Ramsay and Myranda shifted uncomfortably as Petyr continued to watch them. “I hear that Mr Greyjoy had a rather tough night.” Mr Baelish said. Ramsay’s head snapped up. “How do you know?” He asked, confused.  
“Your father didn’t tell you? It was I who organised homes for him. Miss Poole too. I was most upset to learn of her death. Imagine the concern I felt on hearing that Theon was almost burnt alive.” Mr Baelish’s words were accompanied by an underlying meaning that made Ramsay’s blood run cold.   
“Accidents happen.” Ramsay muttered.  
“Yes. Most frequently around you two it seems. First Jeyne’s death, now your friend, Ben was it? And almost your adopted brother. You have had quite a tough time of it lately Mr Bolton. That and your…shall we say…trouble at school.” Mr Baelish shot a meaningful look at Myranda. She stared down into her lap.  
“Wait, you were Jeyne and R…Theon’s social worker?” Ramsay asked, shocked.  
“I suppose I don’t strike you as a social worker. It is true. It is just something to pass the time by, helping underprivileged children find homes. No, I have several other businesses that are far more…reliable.” He finished with a small smile.  
“How kind of you.” Ramsay muttered.  
“Yes, it is not always easy though. When an accident or a death occurs in the adopted family’s care there can be…complications. Questions about the quality of care they are receiving.” Ramsay’s look darkened and Mr Baelish smiled. “Both Theon and Jeyne had very troubled pasts. Theon grew up being blamed for the death of his brothers, resulting in him going from home to home. Until he ended up with the Stark family of course. Nine years he was with them. He and Jeyne grew up together. She was an old friend of the family. A friendship forged over such a long time is a strong one, I can’t imagine it was easily broken.” Ramsay swallowed nervously.  
“I never broke it.” He protested.  
“I never said you did Mr Bolton. I am sure Theon is still haunted by Jeyne’s passing. Suicide. Such a terrible thing. I should know, that’s how I lost my wife.” Petyr continued to smile.  
“Your wife? Alayne’s mother?” Myranda asked, curious to know Alayne’s history. And to break the underlying tension.  
“No. Alayne doesn’t have a mother. Or a father. I took her in. Taught her to…live.” Mr Baelish informed. Myranda frowned. “So she knew Jeyne?” Questions and conspiracies flew around Myranda’s head.  
“No. Alayne came to me after Jeyne left.”  
“But you said…”  
“I said that information and details of my clients will remain confidential, Miss Royce.” Petyr cut in smoothly. He smiled to take the edge off of his words.

Due to the uncontrollable thrashing and screaming, the nurses had no other choice but to put Reek under anaesthetic again.  
Then Theon crept out of his shell once more and back into his dream.  
This time, the Starks were gone. Theon was sitting in the back of a car with luggage around him. He whimpered at the person in the passenger seat of the car. But when Jeyne turned around to look at him, her smile was reassuring, her eyes kind. “It’s alright Theon. We are going to our new home where we will be looked after. Mr Baelish promised.” She said, smiling at him. Theon relaxed in his seat. Jeyne was with him, and she was kind and gentle. The driver was taking them some place safe. Eventually the car pulled into the driveway of a large house. “This is where I live now Theon ok? You stay in here.” She informed him as the driver got out and took out her suitcases.  
“Wait, you are leaving me?” He asked, feeling suddenly cold.  
“It’s ok, I’ll come and visit you when you’ve settled in at the Bolton’s.” She promised. The Bolton’s? “No! Please Jeyne! You can’t take me there! Please!” He begged, but Jeyne wasn’t listening. Instead, she was staring at something across the street, behind the car. Theon peered through the back window and began to whimper.   
Ramsay was staring back at him.  
“You forgot your name.” He saw Ramsay say the words, but his voice echoed around his head. How had he fallen for it again? “I didn’t! I swear! It’s a dream master. I am good Reek! Loyal Reek!” He screamed, cowering in his seat as unseen hands banged on the windows.   
“You forgot your name. You remember what I said I would do to you if you forgot your name.” Reek was forced to look out of the back window again. His eyes widened in fear as he watched Ramsay approach the car. In one hand, he held a gelding knife, in the other, he clasped a flaying knife. “No! Please! Jeyne, don’t let him do it! Save me!” He begged. But Jeyne was no longer his Jeyne. Her eyes had turned black, her hair matted and bloodied. Once again, her green hoodie had been unzipped, revealing the deep bloody gash beneath. Once again, her heart was gone. “I am going to kill you all.” Her voice whispered in his ear. From her pocket she revealed a box of matches.   
Reek screamed as the car erupted in flames around him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myranda and Ramsay's meeting with Mr Baelish reaches its conclusion. Reeks nightmares are far from over.

There was something about Mr Baelish that unsettled her. The way he looked at them, like he knew all of their secrets, everything they had done, everything they were going to do. For once, she was glad when Alayne walked into the room. “You asked to see me Mr Baelish?” She said, peering around the door.  
“Petyr.” It were as though it was a reminder he regularly gave her. “Come in.” He commanded. His eyes immediately reverted from Myranda to Alayne, watching her as she came in, pulled up a chair and sat beside him. She was flushed and a little sweaty from her run. Beneath the red cheeks, Myranda spotted a bruise. Her eye was slightly black and her lip was split. Myranda smirked. She knew she shouldn’t, but it was nice to see Alayne looking not so perfect. “Alayne, sweetling, Miss Royce and Mr Bolton have come to speak to you.” He said warmly. Alayne looked at them, her face somewhat blank. Myranda frowned. It looked as though there was something troubling her. “Sorry for blaming you for the photos and that.” Ramsay said, even though it hadn’t been him. Myranda was brought out of her thoughts by his words. “Yeah, and sorry for attacking you.” She muttered. Alayne gave a small smile. “That’s ok, it must have been quite upsetting. I hope you can come back to school soon though. Mr Ryswell is freaking out about the play.” Alayne informed. Myranda just smiled, unsure what to say. “Well, now that’s done, shall I see you out?” Mr Baelish offered. Myranda and Ramsay nodded, eager to leave. “Very well. I’ll meet you in the kitchen Alayne.” He said. Alayne nodded and left the room through a door that neither Ramsay nor Myranda had spotted before. Mr Baelish watched her leave, then turned back to the two teens. He showed no intention of showing them out. “I will speak with Miss Hornwood, and tell her this whole business was a simple misunderstanding. She will allow you both to go back to school. I hope that nothing like this will occur again. Otherwise, Mr Bolton, I may have to reconsider whether or not Mr Greyjoy is in the best of care.” Ramsay’s look darkened, but Mr Baelish seemed quite unperturbed. He turned to Myranda. “As for you, Miss Royce. Alayne is fragile, she is learning yes, but girls her age can quite easily be…broken. I would appreciate if you would refrain from attacking her.” Mr Baelish stood up from his chair. Myranda and Ramsay followed suit. He led them through the door and past Ros. More girls were loitering on the staircase. They said sweet hello’s to Mr Baelish and smiled at Ramsay. Myranda felt ill beneath the gaze of so many of them. He opened the door and politely gestured for them to get out. “If either of you forget what I have said to you, I have good friends that would be quite willing to see to it that you never forget again.” The warning in his voice was quite clear. Myranda and Ramsay hurried away down the path into the pouring rain. “Oh, and Miss Royce?” Petyr called out after her. Myranda span around to face him, worry etched onto her face. “Do give my regards to your mother.” He smiled and closed the door.  
“Wanker.” Ramsay growled. Myranda stared, shocked, at the door. “How does he know my mother?” She asked, thinking of all the women that had been in the house.  
“Because he’s a creepy perv who knows too much for his own good.” Ramsay replied. He noticed the worried face on Myranda and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, everything is going to be alright.” He said, trying to reassure himself as well as her.  
“How is it going to be alright? Our friend just died, your pet is in hospital and apparently we are being stalked and impersonated by your ex-girlfriend, whom we murdered!” Ramsay pinched her.  
“Shout that a little louder will you? We’ll deal with it. Can we go see Reek now?” He asked, though Myranda sensed that he was begging, desperate to check on his pet. She needed a distraction. “Sure.” She agreed.

Theon’s dreams continued.  
He was learning his name though.  
He knew the setting of the dream well. The inside of his master’s bedroom was all too familiar. He was alone now, but he knew Ramsay would come for him soon. Theon scanned the room, his eyes settled on the corner where the cupboard stood. Jeyne wasn’t there, but that did nothing to make it less terrifying. He crawled away from it, knowing that there was danger in that cupboard. He froze when he heard footsteps outside. The door swung open and Ramsay entered. “Good news my pet! Father has said that we can keep you! Isn’t that good? Aren’t you lucky to have such a lovely home?” His voice was kind. Fake. Theon whined. “What? I hope you are grateful my pet, otherwise we will have to teach you a lesson.” Ramsay smiled as Theon continued to whimper. “Come and show me how grateful you are pet.” Ramsay ordered. Theon didn’t move. Reek rattled inside him, trying to force his way out. But Theon was in control in the dream, not Reek. “Come on pet.” Ramsay encouraged. Reek heard his master’s patience wearing thin. Theon was deaf to the danger.  “So you are still being disobedient are you? I understand. I have been far too soft on you. A disobedient bitch such as you needs a firm hand.” To both Theon and Reeks horror, Ramsay went over to the cupboard and took out his flaying knife. Reek cried out, but Theon simply whimpered. “You know what this is don’t you pet?” Ramsay asked, twisting the blade in his hands so it glinted in the light. Theon nodded. “You don’t seem to be afraid? Well, needs must I suppose.” Ramsay reached back into his cupboard and pulled out another knife. This one was bigger, with a cruel hook at the end. Theon joined Reek in his cries this time. “Please! I’ll be a good pet, I swear by all the gods I will!” He screamed.  
“Oh no, bitches like you don’t have gods. Only their master. Who is you master.” Ramsay moved towards him.  
“You are!” He shrieked.  
“And what is your name?” Ramsay asked, towering over him. Theon didn’t answer for a moment. He heard his voice, but he said no words. “Theon Greyjoy.” It said. Ramsay slid the flaying knife down Theon’s naked back, tearing it open. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t say it!” He cried, shuddering with pain. Ramsay wasn’t listening, he stood behind Theon now, holding up the gelding knife. “What is your name?” He asked again. His voice answered again, but his lips didn’t move. “Theon Greyjoy.” He heard. Theon began to sweat as Ramsay slid the cold steel of the gelding knife up his thigh. He looked around the room, searching for the person who had been answering Ramsay’s question. Part of him knew already. “What…is…your…name?” Ramsay asked, digging the blade into his flesh. Theon looked about more frantically now. Something moved in the corner of the room. When she sensed his gaze on her, she turned. Dead Jeyne stood in the bad corner, watching him. Smiling. She began to sing.

_Cracks in the mirror on the wall_   
_Dust clings to the light in the hall_   
_And you, you haunt me_   
_Oh you, you haunt me._

Theon screamed, but before Ramsay’s blade could slice through any flesh, Jeyne revealed a box of matches in her pocket. “You aren’t his to kill.” She continued to smile as she threw the match to the floor.  
The blistering heat caused Reek to sit up in his hospital bed, screaming.  
“MY NAME IS REEK! IT RHYMES WITH WEAK! SNEAK! FREAK!” His screaming continued when he realised he was looking into the icy gaze of his master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some bad news. I am going away this weekend to the land of no wifi! So, I'm afraid there will be no updates for at least two days. I do have some long car journey's though, so I shall continue to write and I'll type it all up and upload it when I get back. I might get a bit of internet at some point to answer any comments. Hopefully this trip will perhaps give me some fresh ideas for the story.  
> At least I wasn't so cruel as to leave you on a major cliffhanger XD


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay learns what has been occurring while he left his pet.

Ramsay was startled by his pet. He knew Reek had been crazed when he’d pulled him from the burning car, but this was something different. As soon as the nurses heard him screaming, they came running. They pushed Ramsay out of the way and ordered him to keep his distance. The curtains were drawn to conceal the crazed patient. “What’s going on? What are you doing to him?” Ramsay bellowed. None of the nurses listened to him. It took four of them to pin Reek down in order to stop him thrashing enough to inject him. Ramsay ran both hands anxiously through his hair, pulling at it a little, as he watched the terror drain out of his pet. Once he was put back under, the nurses stood back and breathed a sigh of relief. “What happened? Why did you do that? What’s wrong with him?” Ramsay asked, feeling sick with worry.  
“We’ll go and get the doctor.” One of them said timidly, recalling the threats she had received from him earlier that day. They all hurried off, eager to escape in case he became angry. Ramsay was too concerned for his pet to be angry. He slumped down into the chair beside the bed and watched his pet. Occasionally Reek would twitch or murmur incoherent words, the anaesthetic unable to suppress his dreams. Ramsay feared what the dreams consisted of. His pet had been screaming his own name, like he did when he feared that Ramsay thought he’d forgotten.  
Ramsay jumped when the curtain was pulled back sharply. Myranda frowned at his worried expression. “What’s up?” She asked, handing him a coffee.  
“Reek, he woke up screaming. The nurses had to put him back under just to control him.” He informed wearily, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.  
“Oh. What was he screaming?” Myranda asked, sipping her coffee.  
“His name. Reek. You know that thing he does, rhyming his name with things?” Ramsay watched his pet as he continued to flinch and whine in his sleep.  
“Why is he doing that?” Myranda sat down on the edge of Reek’s bed.  
“I don’t know! And get the fuck away from him!” Ramsay growled. He stood and shoved her off of the bed. “What the fuck is your problem?” She cried.  
“Ever since you got us to do that thing with…with Jeyne…Reek has been acting weird, not to mention one of my best mates being killed!”  
“What? So you are saying all of this is my fault?” She asked in disbelief.  
“Yes.” He snapped.  
“As I recall, you were more than happy to take part in it. ‘Yes’ you said. ‘It’ll be entertaining’ you said.” She reminded him. They both glared at one another, not noticing that the doctor had arrived. “Is everything alright here?” The doctor asked.  
“Yes, she was just leaving.” Ramsay growled, continuing to glare at Myranda. She got the hint and flounced from the ward. “Right. You’re Mr Ramsay Bolton I presume?” He asked, checking his notes.  
“Yes.” Ramsay replied bluntly.  
“I spoke to your father earlier, he told me to tell you what’s going on. I’m Doctor Tybald. Now, we can’t see anything physically wrong with Mr Greyjoy, but he appears to be suffering after his traumatic experience. I take it all is well at home?” Ramsay shifted in his seat.  
“Ree…Theon and I are very…close.” He replied.  
“Good. I understand that Mr Greyjoy has had a pretty bad time of it in the past. He mutter’s things while he’s under anaesthesia. Most of it’s incoherent, but some things I have been able to understand. He says names, I’ve listed a few. Do Robb, Jon, Arya, Sansa and Jeyne mean anything to you?” Doctor Tybald watched him closely.  
“Jeyne was my girlfriend. She died a few weeks ago. She was a good friend of R…Theon’s.” Ramsay said.  
“And what about the name Sansa?”  
“It rings a bell. Why?” Ramsay frowned, trying to remember where he’d heard the name before.  
“Well that and Jeyne were the two that he said the most. He also said master a few times. Any idea what that could mean?” Ramsay tried to hide his smirk.  
“I haven’t got a clue.” He said, looking at his loyal pet.  
“Very well. We are going to run a few tests, just to make sure there is no internal damage. We will keep him in overnight. Providing the tests come back clear, he should be fit to go home tomorrow evening.” The doctor smiled at him.  
“Can I stay with him?” Ramsay asked.  
“You need to rest Mr Bolton. I can assure you that your brother will be quite safe in my care.” Doctor Tybald smiled at him one last time, then went to leave. “Oh, one last thing,” He turned back to Ramsay. “If you do recall how you know the name Sansa, call the hospital and ask for me. It’s very important.” He said before turning around and leaving the ward. Ramsay turned to the sleeping Reek. “Get well soon pet. I…I need you.” For a moment, he was tempted to plant a fond kiss on his pets head. But only for a moment. Turning up the collar of his coat, Ramsay left the ward.

The rain poured down relentlessly as Ramsay made his way home. By the time he reached his driveway, he was soaked to the bone. He looked up when he heard the front door slam. “Where are you going?” He asked as his father opened the door to his new car.  
“Out.” Roose replied.  
“For how long?”  
“For the night. I have work to do.” Before Ramsay could say anything, Roose was gone. Not wanting to get any wetter, Ramsay went inside. The house felt cold and empty. Normally when his father went away, Ramsay would make the most of it by torturing his pet. Feeling utterly lost and completely alone, Ramsay made his way upstairs to his bedroom. Once there, he realised how exhausted he was and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I didn't get to write much while I was away, blame Wales. It is so beautiful that I just couldn't stop staring at the scenery long enough to start writing! I had to go look at universities which was great! We heard a mini lecture about eunuchs and the lecturer was like 'men can be castrated for slavery, same-sex sex, for armies or for political reasons'. I'm guessing he's been watching GoT! Then I saw some people wearing Stark hoodies and I thought 'do they know that the guy who plays Ramsay Bolton lives in this city? Run guys! Run!'  
> Yeah, the people around me thought I was crazy!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myranda and Ramsay make up. Ramsay receives an unexpected phone call.

He sat bolt upright in bed. The room was almost dark, the remains of daylight coming in from the window. Something had woken him. He was sure. Ramsay switched on the bedside light and glanced around the room, fearing he might see Jeyne smiling at him from one of the corners. His room was empty.  
He leapt out of bed when something hit his window. He walked over to it and looked down. Myranda was staring up at him. “What do you want?” He growled, opening the window.  
“Is your dad home?” She asked.  
“No, why?”  
“You need pity sex and I’m angry.” She shrugged.  
“Why are you angry?” He asked, leaning out. Her invite did sound appealing. “Cos my mum’s an annoying bitch and you are being a wanker.” She yelled.  
“Wow. That’s a good way to get into a guy’s pants.” He growled.  
“I have a plan b.” She laughed.  
“Oh yeah, and what might that be?”  
“Vodka and weed.” She said, pulling them out from behind her back  
“Fine, I’ll let you in.” Ramsay hurried downstairs. She didn’t smile when he opened the door, just came in and began to try and undo his trousers, vodka and weed still in her hand. Ramsay pulled her in and shut the door behind her. “Finally! We haven’t done this in ages!” She laughed. Ramsay could smell the alcohol on her breath. “Except for at scho…” He began. Her hands froze. She looked up at him angrily. “It wasn’t you. Got it.” He said. She continued to undo his trousers when suddenly, he grabbed her wrist. “But, if that was…her…then, how do I know that you are…well…you?” He asked. He wasn’t going to risk making the same mistake twice. “How would Jeyne know to come to you because you needed pity sex? And how would she know to bring you weed and booze? Plus, she wouldn’t come here half pissed already. Now get that dead bitch out of your mind and fuck me till I scream.” She growled, walking past him and heading towards his bedroom, pulling off her clothes as she went. “Yep, that’s definitely you.” Ramsay muttered before following her.

Myranda got her wish. Ramsay fucked her until she screamed and, for a little while, Ramsay was able to put his pet to the back of his mind. Myranda rolled off of him and lay still beside him, breathing heavily. “Better?” She asked once she got her breath back.  
“Better. You?” He asked, drying himself on the sheets.  
“Yep.” She replied. Ramsay reached for the vodka and drank as much as he could stand. Once he laid back down on the bed however, his thoughts came flooding back. Myranda laid down beside him. “Do you know anyone called Sansa?” He asked her, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.  
“We just had sex and you’re asking me about the name of some girl you can’t even remember?” Ramsay could tell that she was only joking, but he hit her playfully anyway.  
“No. The doctor just said that Reek had muttered the name in his sleep. He told me to let him know if…” Ramsay sat up in bed.  
“If what?” Myranda asked, confused by his sudden action.  
“What was the name of the girl Jeyne was texting, you know, that old friend of hers?”   
“It might have been Sansa, but why would that matter to Reek? Does he even know that Jeyne was texting her?” Myranda sat up, frowning.  
“I don’t know. I need to call the hospital and tell Doctor Tybald. If Reek is awake I could go there and ask him about this Sansa person.” Ramsay reached for his mobile and called the hospital. “Hello, its Ramsay Bolton, I need to speak to Doctor Tybald, it’s very important.” He said.  
“I’m sorry, Doctor Tybald isn’t in.” The woman on the other end replied.  
“He told me to call the hospital when I saw him a few hours ago. The information I need to give him is very important.” Ramsay continued.  
“I’m sorry, there must be some mistake. Are you sure it was Doctor Tybald you saw?” She asked.  
“Yes I am certain, can I please speak to him?” Ramsay was becoming frustrated.  
“I’m sorry Mr Bolton. I have just checked the records. Doctor Tybald wasn’t in at all today. You must be mistaken. Perhaps…” The phone cut off, the sound rang in his ears, deafening him.  
“Hello? HELLO?” Ramsay bellowed. He heard someone pick up on the other end of the line. “Hello? Can you please tell me what the fuck is going on?” He growled down the phone.  
“Hello Ramsay.”  
The voice made Ramsay’s blood run cold. He stared at Myranda, wide eyed with shock and fear. “Ramsay? Ramsay, who is it?” Myranda asked, concerned.  
“Jeyne.” He muttered, not sure whether he was talking to Jeyne or Myranda. Jeyne answered anyway. “That’s right. I’m glad you believed my little performance earlier. I’ve been having some acting lessons, you know, for my part in the school play.” He could hear the mocking in her voice.  
“How are you doing this?” Ramsay was unsure of what to say.  
“How? Now that’s a tricky question. Why? Much easier. You’ve played your games with me Ramsay. Now it’s my turn. I understand your reasons for it all now. Fucking with you and all your gang has just been so much fun, and I’ve only just started!” She laughed.  
“You killed Ben?” He asked.  
“Yes, well, his dogs did, with a little persuasion. You were fun too, I did enjoy our time in the storage cupboard. Shame about the video and the pictures. Do tell Myranda that I say hi!” She laughed again. “You both aren’t nearly as fun to play with as…Reek is it?”  
“Don’t you touch him!” Ramsay growled.  
“Oh, don’t worry. He’s safe. He’s not next on my list.” She was no longer mocking.  
“Who is?”   
“I’m not going to give you spoilers! You’re living in the story Ramsay. You’re my characters to kill off when and how I choose.” She laughed again. Ramsay looked at Myranda again. She had gone pale; obviously hearing snippets of the conversation. “Oops, I’d better go! Your pet is waking up, he’ll need his doctor with him. I’ll see you soon Ramsay. Goodnight.” The line went dead.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh she does enjoy her little games does Jeyne :)  
> Sorry for the somewhat short chapter.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay and his gang have a meeting. Reek goes back to school.

“So let me get this straight. Your dead ex-girlfriend called you up, told you that she can become anyone she wants and that she has a hit list of people she wants to kill?” Damon asked.  
“Yes.” Ramsay replied.   
“Look, we know it sounds like bullshit, but really weird stuff has been happening. People keep seeing me, even though it isn’t me. Then Reek has been waking up screaming, not to mention Ben being torn to pieces by his dogs and Reek being trapped in a burning car.” Myranda informed.  
“We saw her then too, through the flames. She was watching us.” Ramsay added.  
“And I kept finding the words ‘I’m here’ written everywhere.” Myranda finished.  
It had been a week since the phone call and it was the first chance they had managed to get the gang together. The youths were gathered in the den, still dressed in black from attending Ben’s funeral. “Do you think that she was pretending to be your father that time when he whipped you?” Sour Alyn asked. Ramsay shuddered at the thought of her being there as long as that, but he had to admit that it was a possibility. “So what did she say to you?” Skinner asked, lighting a cigarette.  
“She’s playing games with us. Trying to freak us out. She said that she was Doctor Tybald, and Myranda in the…um…storage room. And that she has a list.” Ramsay struggled to remember it all.  
“A list of people she’s going to kill?” Sour Alyn asked. Ramsay nodded. “We can’t let her fuck with us like this. We killed her for fuck sake!” Skinner growled.  
“Maybe we should call ghost busters?” Damon joked. They all glared at him. “So what are we going to do? If she can be anyone, how are we going to know if we are talking to her or the actual person?” Sour Alyn pointed out.  
“We’ll have to be careful around other people on what we say to them and stuff.” Ramsay replied.  
“And what about each other? How are we going to tell if it’s us or her?” Skinner asked.  
“We could use a code word? You know, like they do in films and shit.” Said Ramsay.  
“Monkey-slut!” Cried Damon.  
“What?” Myranda asked.  
“That’s the code word, monkey-slut.” He replied.  
“We aren’t having monkey-slut as a code word.” She growled.  
“Come on, what are the chances of that being used in a normal sentence?” Damon laughed.  
“Fine. Monkey-slut it is.” Ramsay sighed. The group rolled their eyes, but they didn’t argue. Damon grinned at his success. “So how is Reek?” Skinner asked.  
“Better, much better. He no longer wakes up screaming. Dad says he’s coming back to school tomorrow, that he’s sick of having to look after him. I said I’d stay home. He said he’d get sick of seeing me all the time.” Ramsay shrugged. He was glad to have Reek home. He had seen Doctor Tybald in the hospital, but was never sure if it was actually him, or if it was Jeyne. Knowing she had the power to become anyone unsettled him greatly.   
“We’d better get home. Always keep an eye out for anything weird. We don’t know who she’ll be coming after next.” Sour Alyn said, standing up.  
“Oh great. That’s reassuring. What should we do? Have a curfew?” Damon joked. No one laughed. “Fine, but I don’t see how that would help.” He growled. They went their separate ways. Ramsay walked a little of the way with Myranda. “Text me when you get home, yeah?” He asked.  
“Why?” She sounded confused.  
“You know, to make sure you’re ok?”   
“Oh, sure.” She said, frowning.  
“What?” Ramsay asked.  
“I just…are we getting serious or something?” She kicked a stone and watched it skip across the dirt. Ramsay didn’t know what to say. Were they? “Dunno.” Was his best answer.  
“Ok.” She replied, sounding relieved. “See you tomorrow.” She said, walking off before he could reply. Ramsay hurried home to his Reek.

It felt good to have his Reek beside him again. Forgetting everything that had happened in the past few weeks, Ramsay chatted happily to his pet. Reek seemed on edge, but he did not scream or wail. Before they entered the school grounds, Ramsay turned to his pet. He had learned in this past week to speak very slowly and gently in order for his pet to understand. “Remember what I said Reek?” Reek nodded.  
Earlier that morning, while they were getting dressed for school, Ramsay had spoken with his pet about a matter that had been weighing heavily on his mind. “Now my pet, I don’t want to alarm you, I just need you to tell me something. The doctor said you were saying names in your sleep.” Ramsay refrained from mentioning Jeyne’s name. “Who is Sansa?” He’d asked. Reek began to tremble. “It’s alright my pet, you can tell me.” Ramsay cooed, wrapping a comforting arm around his pet. Reek frowned and whimpered, trying to think. “I…I’m sorry Master…I…I don’t know!” He cried. Reek threw himself Ramsay’s shoulder and wept. Ramsay had stroked his back and hushed him until he’d calmed down. “It’s ok my pet, but if you do remember, you must tell me. It’s very important.” He’d said, to which Reek had nodded.  
He didn’t tell him about the phone call.  
Ramsay smiled at his pet and hooked his arm around his shoulders. Guiding him through the school gates. He spotted the gang smoking in the bike sheds. “Hey guys.” He said. They all regarded him suspiciously. Ramsay rolled his eyes. “Monkey-slut.” He said. They each breathed a sigh of relief, apart from Damon who just grinned. “What about him?” Sour Alyn asked, nodding his head towards Reek.   
“This is definitely Reek. I’d know if it wasn’t.” Ramsay replied. Sour Alyn nodded. Ramsay looked around. “Where’s Myranda?” He asked.   
“She went to speak with Mr Ryswell about the play. Here she is now.” Skinner pointed in the direction of the drama block. Ramsay turned to see Myranda heading towards them with Alayne by her side. He was about to walk towards her when Reek grabbed his sleeve. His pet tugged anxiously. “What is it Reek?” He asked, turning to look at his pet. Reek’s eyes were locked on Myranda and Alayne. Ramsay knelt down beside him. “Come on pet, what is it?” The gang looked about fearfully, worrying that Jeyne had made another appearance. Reek looked Ramsay in the eye and whispered a name. “Sansa.” He breathed. Ramsay looked in the direction of the drama block, his eyes locking with Alayne’s.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse the 'monkey-slut' thing. It was obviously influenced by misfits. I don't know why, but Damon just appears in my head as a sadistic version of Nathan. Obviously he wouldn't DARE make fun of Barry...I mean...Ramsay ;)


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay feels the answers to all his questions lie with the mysterious Alayne. Is she this Sansa person? If so, does she know Jeyne? More importantly, would she know how to get rid of her? The gang need answers, and they are going to make sure they get some.

Ramsay never took his eyes off of Alayne as she approached. She must’ve felt the anger and suspicion in his gaze as she grew pale. “Morning.” Myranda said, taking in the awkward silence and the look between Ramsay and Alayne.  
“I’m going to go. I have history. I’ll see you later?” Before Myranda could reply, Alayne was gone. Ramsay watched her until she was out of sight. “What is going on?” She asked.  
“Well Reek…” Skinner punched Ramsay on the arm.  
“Code word?” Skinner growled.  
“Monkey-slut.” Myranda sighed, rolling her eyes. Skinner nodded his approval. “So what’s up?” She asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.  
“I told Reek to tell me when he remembered who this Sansa girl was. He’s just told me now. It’s Alayne.” Ramsay informed.  
“What? But, that must mean…did she know Jeyne then?” Myranda glanced over her shoulder in the direction Alayne had gone.  
“Perhaps.” Ramsay replied.  
“But Mr Baelish said she came to him after Jeyne left.”  
“Maybe he was lying? I don’t know.” Ramsay confessed.  
“We need to find out.” Cut in Sour Alyn.  
“How?” Asked Skinner.  
“There must be a file with her history on it. If Baelish adopted her, he’d need the papers for legal reasons.” Said Alyn matter-of-factly.  
“So what? We just break into Baelish’s house?” Myranda gasped.  
“Brothel.” Piped in Damon.  
“What? Ramsay snapped.  
“It’s a brothel. I’ve been there a few times.” Damon shrugged, grinning smugly.  
“When were you planning on telling us?” Ramsay asked, growing angry at his friends stupidity.  
“Never. I didn’t think you’d be interested in what I did in my spare time.” Damon leaned casually against a wall, as though he had no idea how important it was. Ramsay grabbed him roughly by the collar. “We need you to go there, right now.” He ordered.  
“Right now? But what about school?”  
“Fuck school. We need you to go there and find out if Mr Baelish plans on going out and at what time. Also when Alayne won’t be around and when the brothel is least busy.” He hissed, finally letting Damon go.  
“Ok fine! But that’s an awful lot to get out of a girl, especially when her mouth is full.” Damon said, grinning his toothy grin. A clout around the ear sent him on his way.

As soon as school finished had finished, Ramsay, Skinner, Reek and Myranda got on the bus that took them outside of town, with Sour Alyn following behind on his moped. Damon was still absent. They waited for him behind a row of neatly trimmed hedges outside of the brothel. “Where the fuck is he?” Skinner growled.  
“This is well unfair. We had to go to school while that dickhead gets laid.” Moaned Sour Alyn.  
“Exactly! Remind me why we are doing this again?” Asked Skinner.  
“Because we need to know if Alayne is Sansa. If she is, she might know something about Jeyne that we can use to get rid of her.” Said Myranda.  
“How would that help us to get rid of her?” Skinner grumbled.  
“It works in the films.” Ramsay shrugged. They stood up when they heard Damon come out of the house. “How did it go?” Ramsay asked.  
“Fucking brilliant.” Damon beamed from ear to ear.  
“We mean getting the information you dick.” Skinner growled.  
“Oh, right. That went well too. Mr Baelish has been in meetings in town all day, he isn’t coming back until the evening. Around this time of day is the quietest for the whores but it starts getting busy in the evening. As for Alayne, she goes running after school. She shouldn’t be back for some time.” Damon informed.  
“Good work. Alyn, go and find Alayne. Follow her, but be discreet. Let me know when it looks like she’s heading for home.” Ramsay ordered. Sour Alyn nodded and hurried off on his moped. “Let’s go.” Said Ramsay. Damon grabbed him before he could go any further. “What is it?” Ramsay growled.  
“Ros. She’ll see you. She has links to all the security cameras on her computer. You’ll need to distract her and get her away from her desk.” Damon said. Ramsay looked around for a moment, thinking. Then he turned back to Damon. “What’s that on your hand?” He asked. Damon raised his hand to look at it. Before he could pull away, Ramsay pulled out his pen knife and slashed it across Damon’s hand. Blood began to ooze from the wound. Damon cried out. “Oh, that looks nasty! Cut it on a piece of glass did you? You’d better go and ask Ros to clean it up for you.” Damon glared at him but obliged. They followed him towards the house, hiding the moment he reached the door. He knocked with his good hand, the other was now gushing blood. Ros answered almost immediately. “Seven hells!” She gasped when she caught sight of the hand.   
“We…um…I seem to have…you see, I tripped on your lawn and must’ve cut my hand on a piece of broken glass. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind helping me clean it up?” Ramsay heard Damon ask.  
“Of course Damon, come in!” Ros said. Damon entered, leaving the door open behind him. Ramsay led the way towards the house. “Come on Reek, it’ll be ok.” He cooed when he noticed his pet hesitate. Taking a quick look to make sure the coast was clear, Ramsay stepped inside.

The way to Mr Baelish’s office was easy to remember. It was also a lot emptier than last time. Fortunately when they reached Mr Baelish’s office, they found the door was unlocked. As soon as everyone was in the room, Ramsay shut the door. “Spread out. Skinner, take the closet over there. Myranda, check out that filing cabinet. Reek, look through those drawers. I’ll look in the desk.” He ordered.  
“Sure thing inpector.” Skinner muttered sarcastically. Heading towards their designated areas, the gang got to work.

“For fuck sake!” Myranda growled as she threw down the last of the papers. “They’re all written so fucking formally it’s impossible to tell if they mention Alayne at all! They might as well be written in Dothraki!” She moaned.  
“I haven’t found anything either.” Skinner grumbled.  
“Shit!” Ramsay yelled, slamming the last drawer shut in frustration. “I was sure we’d find something.” He muttered, checking his phone quickly to see if Alyn had called. “Have you found anything Reek?” Ramsay asked, looking over at his pet. Reek was wrapped up in his only little world, staring at a file. “Give me the papers Reek.” Ramsay ordered, towering over his pet. Reek handed it to him without hesitation. Ramsay looked at the first file which was titled ‘Poole, Jeyne’. There was a picture attached to the file. It must’ve been taken when she was first taken into care for she looked a lot younger than when he’d first met her. He quickly scanned through the pages. There was nothing that he did not already know. He skipped to the next file. ‘Greyjoy, Theon’. Ramsay frowned and looked down at his pet. “What is your name? He asked. His pet scurried closer to him. “Reek, it rhymes with meek.” Reek whimpered, rubbing his head up and down Ramsay’s leg.  
“Very good.” Ramsay muttered, patting his pets head. Ramsay glanced over the file quickly. He stopped. His pet had a list of homes and families. He flicked through a few pages until he found what he was looking for. He smiled. “Stark.” He said. The other two looked up, frowning. Reek flinched at the name. “Her full name is Sansa Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So at ten o'clock last night I had a total epiphany on how this story can end. I now have a definite conclusion to the story which I am quite pleased with. Fasten your seat belts readers!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay and the gangs search for evidence continues...until they get interrupted.

He said nothing more, flicking through the remaining pages of the file but finding nothing of significance. “Put it back Reek.” He ordered, handing back the files. He pulled out his phone. “Well we have more time left. Alyn hasn’t said Alayne is heading home yet.” He informed.  
“So what should we do?” Myranda asked, stuffing the papers back into the filing cabinet.  
“Wouldn’t she have something in her bedroom? I mean, most girls keep photos and shit in their rooms don’t they? No offence.” Skinner added after receiving an angry glare from Myranda.  
“Ok, sounds good.” Ramsay agreed, closing one of the desk drawers. He recalled the door that Alayne had disappeared through. “This way.” He announced. When they reached the door however, he found that it was locked. “Shit.” He muttered, slamming his weight against it.  
“Move.” Myranda mumbled, touching his arm. She knelt down in front of the door and examined the lock. She smiled and pulled out a pin from her hair, inserting it into the lock. “Yes.” She heard Ramsay breathe as the door sprung open. The modern interior ended as soon as they stepped through the door. Tapestries were hung from the stone walls, decorated with mockingbirds that either soared beside them, or perched. Watching.  
They carried on down the corridor that opened up into a kitchen. Even that was furnished in an old fashioned way. A large cooking stove took up most of one wall, a table set up for preparing meals stood in front of it. Dried out herbs and wicker baskets hung from the ceiling. Two doorways stood on either side of the stove. “Which way?” Skinner asked. Ramsay shrugged. “You and Myranda take the right, Reek and I’ll go left.” He decided. The group split up. As soon as Ramsay was through the doorway he came across a spiral staircase and began to climb, pausing occasionally to allow Reek to catch up. The walls were made up of dark stone and the staircase itself was not wide enough for two people. A window was a rare occurrence, and so narrow they gave no indication as to how high up they were. As soon as they came across a doorway, Ramsay went through it, eager to escape the confined space of the staircase. The room they entered seemed to be some sort of library, with rows upon rows of books lining the walls. A large wooden door stood open at the other end of the room. “Come on Reek.” Ramsay strode across the room. Reek followed, wringing his hands together anxiously, disliking the emptiness of the place. The next room was far more homely. Painted in bright pastel colours, it was large and spacious. A big double bed was placed against the wall. “Bingo.” Ramsay muttered. He wasted no time in giving Reek orders. He rushed around the room, pulling out drawers and emptying their contents onto the floor, quickly scanning any papers. Ramsay’s movements became more and more frantic as he found nothing to his satisfaction. Terrified by his master’s sudden change in mood, Reek crouched beside the wall and began to whine. Ramsay didn’t hear him. He was deaf to all noise except for the desperate rummaging.  
By the time he heard footsteps, it was far too late.  
Alayne stopped in the doorway. Through tear filled eyes, she took in the devastation. “What in seven hells are YOU doing here?” She cried. Ramsay whipped around, his face dark. “Looking for proof.” He growled.  
“Proof of what?” She asked.  
“Proof that you are Sansa Stark.” He roared. Alayne went pale. “I’m Alayne Stone.” She muttered.  
“No, you aren’t. You are Sansa Stark. Reek told me so. He knew you once.” Ramsay growled, lowering his voice. There were something’s that he did not wish to remind his pet of. “Him.” Alayne spat, turning to Reek. “Yes, he would, wouldn’t you Theon. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve told a lie, would it.” She growled, looming over him. Reek cowered beneath her menacing beauty. “Still afraid of fire are you Theon? Can you still hear little boys screaming?” Reek placed his hands over his ears and began to wail, trying to block out her words. But before Alayne could say anymore, Ramsay grabbed her from behind. “You will not touch him, nor call him by that name!” He yelled, throwing her away from his pet and standing in between them. “So, you admit to being Sansa Stark then? As you just admitted to knowing my pet.”  
“I admitted to nothing. I am Alayne Stone. I live with Mr Baelish, I know the history of some of his cases.” She growled in reply. “Including that of your late girlfriend.” Alayne tilted her chin up, meeting his gaze. Her bright blue eyes piercing him. Ramsay leapt at her, knocking her to the floor. “Confess that you are Sansa Stark and I might not beat you bloody.” He growled. He was oblivious to Alayne’s tear stained cheeks. He was angered more by the look of defiance and strength in her eyes. “My name is Alayne.” She said. Ramsay struck her across the face. They were stinging slaps at first, but as she continued to be defiant, his hand became a fist. “Alayne! My name is Alayne!” She screamed. Had he not been quite so angry, he may have recognised the chant as being much like Reek’s. But he was in no mood to make the link just now. In fact, he was in such a mood where he wanted only one thing. He wanted to smash this bitches head in.  
He no longer asked if she was Sansa. Punches rained down on her repeatedly until her face was a bloody mess. Alayne endured it all. Her tears lost amongst the blood. Ramsay’s red mist was so thick, he didn’t even notice when the two men entered the room. “That’s enough!” One of them roared. Ramsay didn’t listen. He fought their grip, eager for more blood. “Let me get the bitch!” He screamed.  
“No Ramsay. It’s time we went home.” Roose’s voice broke through Ramsay’s angry haze. Slowly, he turned to look at his father. The fact that he couldn’t read his expression made Ramsay tremble. “Father…I…”  
“Get your pet. Get your friend. Get your whore. We are leaving.” Roose purred, he then turned to look at Mr Baelish, who was helping Alayne up. “Please accept my apologies once again, Mr Baelish.” He said.  
“This is not the first time I have come across trouble connected with you Mr Bolton. What am I to make of all of this?” Petyr glanced at the cowering Reek.  
“I will educate my son Baelish. You will never be troubled by my son or his friends again, I can assure you of that.” Roose looked pointedly at Ramsay, who shivered.  
“Very well. As you made your own way in, I am sure you can make your own way out.” Mr Baelish’s words, although sharp, were said politely. Turning away from the Bolton’s, he led Alayne to what Ramsay guessed was the bathroom.

Roose led the gang of youths out. They heard Damon in one of the rooms, apparently getting compensation for his wounded hand. “Dick head.” Skinner growled.   
They all piled into Roose’s car. Myranda trembled, knowing what lay ahead of her. “I thought I raised you to be cleverer than that.” Roose growled.  
“We didn’t think we’d be caught. We had Alyn go out and follow Alayne and to tell us when she got home. He was supposed to text us when she was returning home.” Ramsay confessed, checking his phone. Still there was no word from Alyn. “It looks like Alyn had a follower himself.” Said Roose.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Your friend is dead Ramsay.” Roose informed bluntly. Ramsay felt the inside of the car grow a little colder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. I will, of course, elaborate on the details of Alyn's death. They are very important.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the gang are still suffering from their night with Roose, none more so than Myranda who expresses her distress in rehearsals.

The four youths walked towards the school in absolute silence. They did not speak to one another. They did not look at one another.  
They did however try their best to disguise their discomfort.  
Myranda was so sore that she struggled to keep up. The pain between her legs was so bad that she had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out with each and every step. Every now and then, she required a rest stop. The boys would stop and wait for her. Still they would say nothing. Then they would start walking again as soon as Myranda did.  
The gloves that Skinner had been forced to wear concealed the blistered and burned skin beneath, but they did nothing to ease the pain. He winced each time he had to clench his fingers to stop the hand from seizing up.  
Ramsay’s injuries were far more obvious. As Alayne’s face had been bloodied, so had his. And his body had taken its fair share of abuse too. He had a black eye that was a little swollen, a split lip and multiple cuts. _“You got into a fight. You lost.”_ His father’s voice rang in his ears. “I lost.” He muttered.  
Reek hadn’t gotten off lightly either. He struggled to walk on his ruined feet. Right up until they reached the main road, he had resulted to crawling on his hands and knees to escape the pain his flayed toes were causing him. Occasionally he would whimper. No one listened. Each had their own discomfort.  
What had made the night even worse was the news of Sour Alyn. As Roose gave each teenager their punishment, he filled them in on the events of the day.  
Alayne had chosen to go running through the woods. It had appeared that Alyn felt he needed to follow her through it. She had come across his body, resulting in her running all the way to Roose Bolton’s house, unsure of who else to tell in her distress. Once Roose had decided the cause of death, he had driven Alayne home, calling Mr Baelish on the way and informing him of Alayne’s traumatic experience. Mr Baelish had immediately left his meeting in town to come and comfort Alayne.  
What had disturbed the teens the most was the cause of Sour Alyn’s death. It was clear that it had been no accident. His head had been smashed in, so much so that Roose had barely been able to recognise him. The weapon of choice was found beside the body. A large lump of wood.  
Someone had attacked him with the intention to kill. And Skinner, Ramsay, Myranda, Reek as well as Damon were the only ones who knew whom the culprit was.  
When they reached school, they found Damon waiting for them in the bike shelter. For once, there were no jokes. “You guys look like shit.” He muttered. They each glared at him. “Monkey-slut.” He said. They repeated the word as though it were some sort of solemn greeting. “You guys ok?” Damon asked, eager to break the silence. Tears began to slide down Myranda’s cheeks. In a sudden rush of anger, Ramsay attacked the side of the bike shelter, kicking and screaming at the wall. None of them made any attempt to stop him. “We failed. I lost. And now one of my best friends is dead, because of that BITCH! So no Damon, I don’t think we are ok!” He screamed.  
“Bitch? Alayne? Or…” Damon trailed off.  
“No. Jeyne. Jeyne…” Ramsay fell against the wall, ignoring the pain, he slid down into a crumpled heap on the ground. They fell silent again, apart from the sobs that shuddered out of Myranda. “I thought I knew better…I thought I could beat her!” Ramsay hissed. The final words remained unsaid. _“Alyn is dead because of me.”_ Ramsay remained on the ground, his head in his arms. Slowly, Reek crawled over to him. Ramsay grasped him tightly. “No. We are going to beat her. We can do this, I know it. We just…we need to find out some stuff about all this. There has to be a way to get rid of her!” Damon insisted, looking over at Myranda. She didn’t notice him. She continued to cry, her thoughts still stuck in the events of last night. _“Scream my name, whore.”_ She heard Roose whisper. She flinched.  
“We should get to form.” Muttered Skinner. Ramsay stood up. “Myranda? You coming?” She didn’t hear Ramsay. When he touched her, she struck out. “DON’T…don’t touch me.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She didn’t look at him, just walked off in front of them. The boys watched her go. Damon frowned. Skinner and Ramsay exchanged knowing glances. “Come on.” Said Ramsay. Shoving his shaking hands deep inside his pockets, Ramsay followed Myranda’s retreating figure.

She sat in her usual seat at the back of the room. She barely noticed when Ramsay sat down beside her. Her hands were placed, palms down, on the desk. Was it to stop them shaking? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t even remember putting them there. When Ramsay placed a hand on her shoulder, she flinched. “Myranda? Sir’s called your name for the register.” She looked at him. His mouth moved. She didn’t hear the words. She only heard Roose’s voice. _“Scream my name, whore. I want to hear you say it. Beg me to fuck you harder.”_ She shuddered and stared into his eyes. He had his father’s eyes. “Get away from me.” She growled, standing up abruptly and pushing him away. People turned and watched. She didn’t see them. She only saw the eyes. “Myranda, could you sit down please?” Mr Stout said. She looked up suddenly, only just remembering where she was. She met each set of eyes. Some hated. Some wondered. Some judged.   
She sat down.  
“Good. Now…” Mr Stout was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in!” Mr Stout ordered.  
“Hi, I’m here for Myranda, she’s needed for rehearsals.” Said Mr Ryswell, his gaze meeting Myranda’s.  
“Very well. Break a leg Myranda.” Mr Stout smiled. She flinched. _“Fuck me like a good little whore or I’ll break your pretty little leg.”_ Roose growled. She stood up and hurried from the room, not waiting for Mr Ryswell to catch up. Once he did, he said nothing, just matched her stride for stride.

All the theatre kids were there, ready to begin rehearsals, but there was no Alayne. “Please, take a seat Myranda.” Said Mr Ryswell. She did, sitting away from the others. “Right everyone, now we finally have our leading lady, we can begin these rehearsals. Alayne is off sick today but we should be able to manage without her for today. We’ll start with a warm up exercise.” He announced. The theatre kids shuffled in their seats, eager to begin. Myranda barely heard him. “Improvisation! I take it we all know the meaning? Good! Now I’ll give each of you a topic and I want you to improvise a monologue about it. But don’t think too much! Remember, it’s supposed to be improvised. Myranda, we’ll have you up first.” Mr Ryswell smiled and sat down in the front row. It took a moment for Myranda to realise she was being spoken to. “What?” She asked dumbly.  
“Go up and improvise a short monologue. And your topic is…drum roll please…religion!” He announced. Myranda stood up slowly. Religion. What was religion to her?  
“Um…I…Religion…”   
“Project Myranda, you’ve been doing so well these past few weeks!” Myranda began to tremble. Rage shook her. “Fine. Religion. You want to know what religion is? I’ll tell you. It’s bullshit. There are no gods. Gods are supposed to judge you and help you. Well, I’ve been judged. I’m judged all the time. People judge me and think I’m some…some whore.”  
 _“Scream my name whore.”  
_ “People judge me and think I’m cruel. That I enjoy causing pain. Perhaps I do.”  
 _“I’m here.”  
_ “But neither the seven, nor the old gods or the drowned god or the lord of light have ever tried to help me. Where were they when I was…when I was…”  
 _“I’m acting. It’s acting.”  
_ “When my father...”  
 _“Fuck me like a good little whore.”  
_ “They didn’t help me then. Where were they when my friend was being brutally murdered? They didn’t help him then. And if punishing me was meant to help me somehow, then it didn’t do much fucking good.”  
 _“Beg me to fuck you harder whore.”_  
“So there. You wanted a monologue about religion? You fucking got one.” Myranda growled. She hadn’t noticed the tears before, but there they were. Streaming, unbidden, down her cheeks.  
The room was silent.  
Then, as the tension began to melt out of the room, the students began to clap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely pleased with this chapter but it got me where I wanted so it's cool I guess. Head was not in the right place today.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rehearsals for Macbeth continue. Myranda and Mr Ryswell have a heart to heart. She finds something that might come in useful.

Rehearsals lasted for most of the day. Myranda felt drained, eager to go home, take a shower and drink until the past few days were nothing more than a blur.  
Mr Ryswell had other ideas.  
“Myranda, would you mind staying behind for an hour or so? I just want to work on some of your monologues.” She groaned inwardly but headed towards him, dumping her back bag on the floor. “Thanks. Now, we’ll start with your first one and work our way through shall we?” He said, sitting back down. Myranda took to the stage.

“That was good, but why are you so tense? Don’t be scared of the character, she is you. That nervousness would work for the last few scenes, but you have to show that the character develops through the play, especially her psychological development. It requires you to use both face and body as well as the words to express how she feels. Here, for example, she has just received news from her husband, saying that he has been told he shall, one day, be King. That would make her a Queen! Doesn’t sound too bad does it?” He joked.  
“But it is very rare that a Queen has a peaceful reign, there will always be trouble. She’ll never be truly happy.” She argued, thinking of all the Targaryen queens she had studied in history.  
“Exactly, but she doesn’t know that. In her time, women didn’t have much to aspire too. They were essentially baby machines. And it is mentioned that Lady Macbeth is barren. Therefore she had nothing to aim for, nothing to achieve. Imagine suddenly being given the hope that you could be Queen, to finally have a purpose. Tell me, would you want to carry on your empty life, or would you want to have a purpose to it?” Myranda was silent for a moment, deep in thought.  
“I want a purpose.” She said. A purpose. A purpose would be nice.

It was dark by the time they’d finished. “Right, that’ll do for today! Same again tomorrow?”  
“Yeah, sure!” Myranda replied. She couldn’t deny that the day had helped her somewhat. For several hours she got to be someone else. She could live in a different world where she had power over the men around her. In this fictional land of Scotland, Roose Bolton couldn’t touch her. Neither could Jeyne. She didn’t even have a mother or father.  
And she had a purpose.  
“It’s dark. Do you want a lift home?” Mr Ryswell asked.  
“I’m fine thanks. It’s not far.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s starting to rain and you don’t even have a coat. Can’t have my leading lady getting a cold now can we? Come on, I pass your place on my way home anyway.” He insisted.  
“Well, if you’re sure?” She picked up her bag and followed him from the room, waiting outside while he locked up.   
“Do you have any questions about the play?” He asked, trying to spark up a conversation.  
“Don’t think so.” She replied.  
“Well you’ve pretty much nailed the character. That improvised monologue was very impressive too. You haven’t had any acting experience before?” He unlocked the door to his shabby Toyota Yaris and opened it for her.  
“Who said anything about acting?” She muttered, seating down on the passenger seat. If he’d heard her, he didn’t show it. He shut the door and hurried around to the other side of the car as the rain began to fall harder. He climbed in beside her and she shuffled on the uncomfortable seat. She gasped when she felt a burst of pain between her legs. “You ok?” He asked, putting the key in the ignition.  
“Just drive.” She ordered.  
“Ok.” He pulled out of the empty car park and onto the dark road. “It’s cold.” He muttered. Myranda nodded. “Winter is coming.” He shivered. Myranda shuddered. “You don’t mind if we stop off at my sister’s house on the way do you? It’ll only be for a few minutes.”  
“Your sister? You mean Barbrey? I don’t think she’d want to see me.” Myranda struggled to hide the bitterness in her voice.  
“Oh, don’t worry, she isn’t in. She’s gone away on a business trip. She asked me to water her plants for her.” He said, laughing a little.  
“Well that’s alright then.” She laughed.  
“I’m sure she doesn’t hate you really. Barbrey’s just…she finds it hard to let things go.” Mr Ryswell said solemnly.  
“No shit. I’m used to people hating on me anyway. One more person won’t make much difference.” She mumbled.  
“People don’t hate you Myranda. They just don’t get you. You’re complicated.”  
“Most people would disagree and say I’m easy.” She growled.  
“Well you aren’t. Don’t let others get you down Myranda. That whole thing with the pictures and these fights you’ve been getting into recently, they’ll pass. People forget easily. Forgiving is harder.” He said, pulling up onto Barbrey’s driveway. Myranda looked up at the house. With no lights on, it looked dark and formidable. Myranda shivered at the sight of it. “Don’t worry, there’s no ghosts here! You’re getting too into your character.” Mr Ryswell laughed. Myranda smiled weakly and got out of the car. She stared up at the house, hesitant to step into its shadow. “It won’t take long. You can wait in the car if you want.” He offered. A vision of Reek screaming inside the burning car popped into her head. “No, I’m coming.” She said, hurrying after him. He let them in and found the light switch, bathing each room with warm light. “Make yourself comfortable, this should only take a few minutes.” He led her into the lounge and left her in there. Myranda looked around. She didn’t want to sit down. Jeyne had sat there. Even her scent lingered here. She wondered around the room, recalling when she had last been here. She had provoked Jeyne into arguing with her. She had known that would piss of Ramsay. She had wanted it to. She wanted him to hate her as much as she did.   
She jumped when she heard a thud behind her.  
Turning, she saw nothing except a photo frame lying face down on the carpet. Her stomach churned. There was no way she had knocked that down herself. But there was no ominous writing and no Jeyne so she walked over to it and picked it up. It was a photograph of Jeyne. She had obviously gone on a day out with Barbrey to the beach. She looked younger than when Myranda had met her. She stared out across the sea, looking slightly sad. What an odd picture to keep. Surely Barbrey would want a happier one?   
Myranda shrugged and placed the photo frame back on the table. No. It wasn’t a table. It was a cupboard.   
Glancing behind her to check Mr Ryswell was not nearby, she pried open the cupboard door. There were several drawers inside, each neatly labelled. Only one required her attention. Trying to make as little sound as possible, Myranda opened the drawer labelled ‘Jeyne’. She glanced at each sheet of paper until she found the one titled ‘previous homes’. She pulled it out and quickly restored the cupboard to its former tidiness.   
She had just about managed to shove the sheet of paper down her bra before Mr Ryswell appeared in the doorway. “Ready?” He asked.  
“Absolutely.” She replied, smiling at him sweetly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another rather slow chapter but it was needed. It should pick up pace again afterwards. Got a bit lazy at the end there so wasn't great, but it is 1am here so I NEED SLEEP!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myranda gets to tell the gang about her find. There is an important announcement made in assembly.

Despite knowing the importance of the papers that she had found, Myranda didn’t have the time to tell the guys about them. In fact, she hardly ever saw them. Due to the next few days being made up mostly of rehearsals, she was just too busy. Mr Ryswell had told the cast that they would be performing the first few scenes in the next assembly so they were all working hard to bring it up to performance standard. Of course they could only perform up to the point where Macduff entered as Alayne still was not at school.  
Myranda enjoyed rehearsals. She regularly stayed behind after school to work on some of her scenes with Mr Ryswell. One time, she received a text from Ramsay, asking her if she wanted to come around. She declined. She had rehearsals. A part of her sometimes wondered if that was truly the reason, or if she was just trying to avoid him.  
He didn’t text her back.

On Friday morning however, the morning of the assembly, the gang caught up with her outside the school hall. They each muttered ‘monkey-slut’ to each other before saying anything. “Where have you been?” Skinner growled.  
“Busy.” Myranda snapped. She was nervous and in no mood for a confrontation. “Yeah we guessed that.” Ramsay grumbled.  
“Jeyne is still out there, picking us off one by one, and you aren’t doing anything to help.” Damon hissed.  
“Actually, I am!” She spat. They all frowned, confused. “Mr Ryswell gave me a lift home the other night…”  
“Wait, he gave you a ride?” Ramsay asked.  
“Yeah, so?”  
“You got in a car with another man?” He was angry now.  
“Are you fucking serious? He’s a teacher Ramsay. Anyway, what does it matter to you? It’s not like we’re serious, are we?” She snapped. An awkward silence settled over the group. “Can we get back to the point, please?” Said Damon.  
“Yes. We stopped off at his sister’s house, Barbrey’s gone away for a few days. I found some papers on Jeyne’s previous homes.” She informed with a bit of pride in her voice.  
“Fucking hell! Good work Myranda!” Said Skinner.  
“Where are they? Did you bring them with you?” Damon asked.  
“Yeah, they’re in my bag. I left it in the drama block but I can show you at break.” She said. They stopped talking about it when it began to get busier. “Well done.” Muttered Ramsay.  
“Thanks.” She replied.  
“Look, I’m sorry yeah?” Myranda wasn’t exactly sure whether he was sorry about the other day, his father or his accusation, but she was glad of the apology all the same.  
“It’s alright.” She said.  
“Do you want to come around this weekend? Dad’s going to be busy at work.”  
“Sure. Sounds good.” She smiled brightly at him.  
“I’m going to go take a piss before this thing starts. I’ll see you in there.” Interrupted Damon.  
“Sure man, I’ll save you a seat.” Promised Ramsay. Students began to file into the hall and find seats. Myranda felt sick with nerves. “Good luck, you’ll be fine.” Ramsay said, not used to offering encouragement.  
“Cheers.” Myranda appreciated the thought he gave.  
“Yeah, good luck Myranda.” Skinner grinned, heading towards the door to the hall. Even Reek offered what little luck he had before Ramsay led him into the hall. She paced up and down as the rest of the cast gathered around outside. “You’ll be fine.” Said Palla. Myranda grimaced. She recited her lines over and over in her head, panicking each time she thought she had forgotten a bit. “You nervous?” Asked Mr Ryswell when he spotted her.  
“No, I’m pacing up and down for the exercise.” She snapped. Mr Ryswell raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m terrified.” She muttered.  
“Relax. Come on, let’s go take our seats. Miss Hornwood said she’d call us up onto the stage once she has gone through everything else. You’re going to be fine.” He smiled. She smiled back and followed him into the hall.

Ramsay checked his phone when Miss Hornwood started speaking, wandering what the hold up with Damon was. “Do you think he’s buggered off to the brothel again?” Skinner joked.  
“Probably.” Whispered Ramsay. They slumped in their seats as Miss Hornwood droned on. Normally they never bothered to go to assembly, but they felt obliged to this time, for Myranda’s sake. As Miss Hornwood began to complain about the amount of litter found after lunch times, a shuffling was heard from behind the curtain of the stage. Miss Hornwood paused before carrying on. There was a bit more shuffling and the curtain moved. Skinner nudged Ramsay and indicated to Damon’s empty chair, grinning. What was his mate up to now? “I’m sorry, are all the students present?” Miss Hornwood asked, her eyes looked up to where Ramsay sat. She regarded the empty chair suspiciously. “Ramsay Bolton where, pray tell, is your friend Damon?” She raised an eyebrow.  
“Said he needed a piss Miss.” Ramsay replied. A snigger rippled through the audience. “I see.” More shuffling was heard from behind the curtain. “Damon! Come out from behind there now!” Miss Hornwood ordered. The students laughed, the staff became flustered.  
The curtain was pulled back.  
The student’s laughter turned to screams. The staff gaped, horrified.  
Damon swung back and forth.  
Ramsay stood up and began to push and shove his way through the panicked crowd who were trying to escape. He ran across the hall and leapt up onto the stage. “Grab his legs!” He heard someone yell. But when Ramsay got closer to the body, he realised it was far too late. Damon’s body was cold. He had been there for a while.  
Ramsay stared at the body. The eyes bulged, staring at nothing in fear and shock. His skin had turned an unnatural shade of blue.  
He jumped when his phone went off. Ramsay pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the message. It had been sent from Damon’s phone.

_Monkey-slut. Nice Try._   
_Jeyne xx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monkey-slut is blown!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myranda struggles to deal with her emotions.

No one tried to stop her as she ran. She continued all the way to the drama block, pausing just before going in. Her breathing was heavy and as it calmed, she vomited into the bushes. She staggered through the corridors until she found the studio. She hurried over to her bag and rummaged through it. It was as she had suspected. The papers were no longer there. She wept. Long sobs that forced her to shudder and crumple onto the floor. She curled up into a fetal position and wept. Her tears were hot on her pale face. Emotions surged through her; anger, hate, grief, frustration, sadness. She could no longer contain them all. Crying helped a little, so she stayed there, weeping and sobbing, gasping for breath as the tears choked her.

She had no idea how long she stayed there. At some point she must’ve run out of tears because she was no longer crying. They had dried on her face, making it feel as stiff as stone. When she heard the door open, she didn’t move. A part of her thought it might be Jeyne, come to claim her for her next victim. “Myranda?” She heard Mr Ryswell call out. She didn’t move as she heard him approach her. “Myranda, are you ok?” He asked, touching her shoulder. Slowly, she looked up at him. “Why does everyone have to die around me?” She whispered, her tears returning. He grimaced. “It’s not you Myranda.” He assured. But she knew it was. She sat up on her hands and knees. Then she noticed his hand on her shoulder. Longing for closeness, for affection, she leaned into it, wrapping her arms around him. Mr Ryswell froze. He wasn’t supposed to hug the students. But the girl had no one. She was grieving.  
He wrapped his arms around her as she wept into the front of his shirt. He rested his cheek on her hair, breathing her in.  
They stayed like that until Myranda could cry no more.  
“Where is everyone?” She asked.  
“Gone home. Miss Hornwood has called the police out.” Myranda shuddered, knowing that Roose would be there.  
“How did you know where to find me?”   
“I didn’t, but I saw you run off and I couldn’t see you when the school gathered outside, so I came looking for you to make sure you were ok.” He said, smiling.  
“Thanks.” She muttered, trying to wipe away her panda eyes from where her mascara had run down her face.  
“Come on, I’ll take you home.” He stood up, offering a hand to help her as she stood on shaky legs.

The ride home was carried out in mournful silence. Occasionally Myranda would begin to cry, then she would stop again, wiping away the tears in frustration. Mr Ryswell knew better than to try and comfort her. She was embarrassed by how weak she must’ve looked. Finally, the tower block loomed up in front of them and Mr Ryswell stopped the car. “I’m so sorry about your friend. It was a horrible thing to witness.” He said.  
“I’ve seen worse.” She muttered, opening the door. He grabbed her wrist and stopped her.  
There must’ve been some misconception caused by this contact. Perhaps Mr Ryswell had only meant to tell her something, like when the next rehearsal for the play was, or that everything was going to be ok. Whatever he may or may not have meant to say, he wasn’t given the chance. Myranda, in a somewhat unexpected and unusual fit of desperation, crushed her lips against his. For a moment, she felt as though this was what she had been missing. Despite the awkward positioning caused by the gear stick and hand brake, she did her best to press herself to him as close as she could, longing for his kindness and affection.   
Of course, Mr Ryswell was shocked. So much so that he did not pull away. Unsure of what to do, he just sat there as she deepened the kiss. The small confines of the car made it awkward, but Myranda persisted. Mr Ryswell was conflicted; this was wrong, he knew that. She was a student, he was a teacher. But he feared what it would do to her if he rejected her. Despite the brazen exterior, she was so broken, so desperate for love and affection.  
It wasn’t until she began to undo her blouse that he pushed her away. “We can’t.” He muttered.  
“We can.” She insisted, breathing heavily. He caught her wrist as she tried to move her hand up his thigh. “Myranda, you are a very beautiful girl, but I can’t do this. You are a student. I am a teacher. If anyone knew I had let you go this far…it would get me fired.” He said sternly. Then he realised he’d said the words too sternly. Myranda’s face turned red, but she tried to hide the embarrassment with a pout. “Fine. Let me give you some petrol money.” She said, rummaging through her bag. Mr Ryswell frowned when she pressed a twenty into his palm. “Myranda, there is no need…”  
“Oh but I insist. Besides, you don’t have to spend it on petrol. There’s a brothel just outside of town, go buy yourself a whore for the night you frigid bastard.” She spat, slamming the door before he could say anything. ****  
  



	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay does some thinking. Myranda does some fighting.

Ramsay had to carry Reek home for some of the way. His pet trembled and shook, sometimes wailing in fear. At one point, a bird had burst out of the trees over their heads and Reek had thrown himself to the ground, begging them not to hurt him. When Ramsay had gone over to him, he had been screaming “Don’t hurt me, please Jeyne, don’t kill me!” This made Ramsay angry beyond belief. This bitch had gone too far. There was only one person Reek was allowed to fear, and that person was him.   
Once he realised Reek wasn’t going to move of his own accord, frozen in terror, Ramsay had scooped his pet up in his arms. The fact that Reek pressed himself so deeply into Ramsay calmed him a little, but not enough. Ramsay took him up to their room and settled him on the bed. Had he been in the mood for it, he might have flipped him over, torn off his trousers and fucked him until he bled. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Recently, Ramsay had struggled to take his anger out on his pet. Reek had been so affectionate; always sensing when his master needed him. He needed Reek, just as Reek needed Ramsay.   
He watched his pet fall into a disturbed sleep on the bed. Occasionally, Reek would cry out and twist and writhe on the sheets before falling still again. Ramsay watched him, each fit making him angrier. For once, having no one to take it out on, his anger made him think. He slumped in his chair, idly picking at the arm of the chair, stewing things over in his mind.  
Jeyne had a hit list. That meant someone was next. But who? First it had been Ben, second had been Sour Alyn, third was Damon.  
Wait.  
First. Ben.  
Second. Alyn.  
Third. Damon.  
Ben had been mauled by his dogs, and bitten by what appeared to be a human on his thigh.  
Alyn had had his head bashed in. Ramsay hadn’t seen his body. Had he been bitten too?  
Damon had been hung. He hadn’t thought to check for bite marks.  
Jeyne had been chased by Ben and his dogs. She had been knocked out by Alyn. Damon had terrorised her with a noose.  
And then they had eaten parts of her body.  
Ramsay sat up in his chair.  
She was working through each of them as they had worked through her. That meant Skinner was next.   
Ramsay tore his phone from his pocket and noticed he had been sent a message. He had obviously been so deep in thought he hadn’t heard it go off.   
He looked at the message.  
It was from Damon. No. Damon was dead.  
It was from Jeyne.  
The message was made up of a video and a few words.

_Like mother, like daughter.  
Jeyne xx_

Ramsay played the video.

She wiped the tears away from her face, cursing him each time she did so. When in the elevator, she slammed on the buttons so hard she thought they might break. It took a few minutes before the elevator lurched into motion. She continued uttering swear words until she reached her flat. On opening the door, she jumped, swearing again, surprised to see her mother standing in front of her. “Where the fuck have you been?” Her mother growled.  
“Out.” She snapped.  
“Out where?” Myranda tried to get past her, but her mother blocked her path.  
“What? Since when did you care where I was? You’re passed out most days when I come home!” Myranda yelled, in no mood for an argument.  
“Since Mr Baelish came around and informed me that you broke into his house.” Her mother spat.  
“Why was Mr Baelish here? Is he going to employ you in his brothel? It’s not like it would be a big stretch for you mother.” Myranda snarled.  
The punch came from nowhere, but it floored her all the same. Myranda could taste the blood in her mouth. She gasped for breath, the force of the blow had knocked the breath out of her and all she could see was a mixture of white and black spots, shifting and twisting. She opened and closed her mouth, gasping again as pain hit her once more.  
She couldn’t recall the last time her mother had hit her. It must’ve been a while ago. Once Myranda had reached her teenage years and was considered able to fend for herself, they had started to stay out of each other’s way, rarely seeing each other, unless it was when her mother was passed out on the sofa. She had never felt a connection with either parent. Myranda had always independent. She had, some would say, been shamefully neglected as a child. Her mother and father had been so wrapped up in their own indulgences that she never had anyone that vaguely resembled a parent. Of course, her father had called on her for entertainment from time to time. But that was in no way for parental reasons. Myranda was in a world of her own as a child. It was safer that way. She sometimes struggled to realise that anyone else really existed. Perhaps that was why she was so cruel.  
She lay, face down, on the floor for a few minutes at least. Her mother did not move away. Eventually, when Myranda realised her mother wasn’t going to storm out, get pissed and end up in a ditch, she looked up.  
Cold black eyes stared down at her.  
Myranda’s blood ran cold.  
Despite the throbbing pain on the left side of her face, she tried to scramble away from her quickly. Jeyne laughed. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” She smiled.  
“L…leave me alone!” Myranda cried.  
“Aw, I’m sorry, did I scare you?” Jeyne mocked. Myranda began to weep, cowering in the corner. “Truth is, I wanted you to be more shocked. By the punch I mean. Your reaction was somewhat anti-climactic.” Jeyne walked towards her. “Poor baby. Did you have a bad childhood? Was mummy mean to you? Did daddy rape you? Trust me, when I’m done with you, you’ll be willing to go through it all again if it meant you got to escape.” She smiled her cruel smile.  
“If you’re going to do it, then do it. Kill me and be done with it!” Myranda screamed.  
“Kill you? Tempting as it may be, I’m not done playing with my toys just yet.” Jeyne laughed. Myranda’s fear turned to rage. In a wild fit of anger and frustration, she leapt at the bitch.   
But the dead move fast.  
Myranda landed on the floor, gasping as the air was knocked from her lungs again, her head pounded. She looked up to see Jeyne standing in the doorway. “You’re going to have to try harder than that Myranda.” She snarled.  
“I fucking will. I’m going to get rid of you. After all you’ve done, I’d gladly kill you again.” Myranda growled.  
“After all I’ve done? Bitch, please.” She laughed. “Another time perhaps.” Jeyne smirked. “But I’m afraid I must be going. Lots to do, people to kill…you know how it is. Good night Myranda, sleep well.” Jeyne closed the door on her way out. Myranda could hear her humming as she went down the corridor. She remained on the floor for a while. Then she sat up. Determination filled her and propelled her towards her bedroom.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remaining members of Ramsay's gang gather to try and decide how to get rid of Jeyne before she comes for Skinner. But tensions are running high and, due to yesterday's events, Ramsay hits breaking point.

Myranda hurried through the woods, not liking being out of the house on her own. When she heard what must’ve been a rabbit scamper through the undergrowth, she screamed and ran a little way. When she stopped, she felt such a fool that she almost began to cry again. She shouldn’t let Jeyne get to her, but she was shaken. Jeyne seemed to know everything about her, yet she still knew next to nothing about Jeyne. She also never knew if a person she was speaking to was actually them, or if it was Jeyne. In fact, when a man had catcalled her that morning, she had jumped so much she almost ended up in the road.   
She was even tentative about coming to the woods. She had been surprised when it had been Skinner that had texted her, telling her that they needed to talk and to meet him and Ramsay (and no doubt Reek) in the woods the next morning. It had taken some convincing to get her to believe that it was actually him. She had refused to ask the question ‘Why hadn’t Ramsay texted her?’. If it was Jeyne pretending to be Skinner, she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of thinking something was up between them.  
She finally reached the den where Skinner was already waiting with Ramsay and Reek. Ramsay glared at her. “What’s she doing here?” He growled.  
“We need to stick together Ramsay.” Skinner hissed.  
“Nope. No fucking way. I’m not doing anything with that whore.” Ramsay literally spat in her direction. Myranda leapt out of the way of the flying saliva. “Have I missed something?” She snapped. Skinner looked away, not wishing to look her in the eye. Ramsay’s look darkened. “Don’t think you can fucking lie to me slut!” Ramsay roared. He stood up quickly and charged towards her. For a moment, she thought he was going to hit her so when the arm came up, she quickly dodged out of the way. When no strike came, she looked at him. In his hand, he held his phone out. When he saw that she was looking, he pressed the play button. Myranda went pale as the video went on. Someone was filming her. They appeared to be hiding behind a wall, but crept around the corner for a clearer view as Myranda and Mr Ryswell pulled up to her house.   
Myranda looked up at Ramsay whose face was thunderous. “Keep. Watching.” He growled. She did, not liking the look in his eyes.  
The camera picked up nothing of what she and Mr Ryswell were saying. She supposed that was a good thing. Soon enough though, the kiss came. So desperate for his closeness, she had not noticed how stiff and awkward he had been. She shifted from foot to foot as she watched herself press into him. She turned her face away as soon as the rejection came.   
Ramsay put his phone away, never taking his eyes off of her. “You told me nothing was happening. You said he was a teacher. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He yelled. Myranda whimpered and cowered from him for the first time. Ramsay grabbed her by the top of her thin arms, forcing her to look at him. “Why did you do it? Am I not enough for you? I murdered an innocent girl, FOR YOU! My friends have died because you were jealous of sharing me with another girl, and now you’ve moved on to the next poor fucker! My father is right to name you as a whore.” Ramsay’s face was so close to hers that she felt his spittle kiss her cheek.   
“I’m…I’m sorry. I was just…the moment…I was caught up in it, I couldn’t help it!” She wailed.  
“Spare me your bullshit! You threw yourself on him! It was not as though he invited you. Oh, I get it, you want someone to be nice to you. To be affectionate. To make you feel special. Well you know what Myranda? You’re nothing special. You’re just a nice looking girl who knows how to use her tits and her cunt. And how do you know how to use them? Because sick, twisted daddy taught you!” Myranda sobbed. Ramsay slapped her. Usually she wouldn’t let him. But the pain felt _good_. She endured the strikes as slaps became punches. She allowed the tears to roll down her face as Ramsay knocked it from side to side, screaming insults with each punch.  

Reek crouched beside the Weirwood tree and watched his master as he beat naughty Myranda. “Please old gods, don’t let him turn to me next.” He prayed. The gods didn’t answer. Why would they? They had seen him help them to kill Jeyne. _“They’re on her side.”_ He thought. He would get no help from them.  
“That’s enough Ramsay.” He heard Skinner say. “Ramsay, ENOUGH!” Reek jumped when he heard Skinner roar. His master turned to his friend, teeth clenched, a crazed look in his eye. Skinner looked at him calmly. Myranda continued to whimper, but she never swayed. She stood tall and proud, with a bloodied face. A grotesque beauty.  
She had always appeared to Reek as just that. Causing nothing but trouble for him, his master and…  
“Reek.” His master called. Reek crawled over to him. Ramsay had collapsed onto a log. Reek rested his chin on his master’s lap, knowing he needed comforting. “If we don’t get rid of Jeyne, then I’m next. And I don’t plan on being hung, or getting my head bashed in, or being mauled by dogs.” Skinner growled, slumping down beside the Weirwood.  
“Well, if it’s any consolation, they won’t be her method of death for you. She’ll skin you alive probably.” Ramsay stroked Reek’s matted curls idly. Reek gave what could’ve easily been mistaken as a purr, but was more likely just a groan of relief, or pleasure considering his master’s hand was not a hurting one. Not today anyway. “Oh great, so I’ve got that to look forward to. No fucking way. We are getting rid of this bitch, once and for all. Myranda, you summoned her with that ritual and the prayer thing, surely you know of some way to get rid of her.” Reek didn’t dare glance over at Myranda. He must always keep his eyes on his master at all times, unless Master permitted it. And Master was in no mood to allow Myranda the privilege of his pet’s pitiful gaze.   
He could hear Myranda pull out a piece of paper from her pocket and hand it over to Skinner. Her lip was no doubt swelling up, limiting her ability to speak. Serves her right. She should have stayed loyal to Master. “Good.” Skinner muttered, glancing over the page. He looked up at Ramsay. “We can get rid of her. But we need information.” Skinner informed.  
“What information?” Ramsay growled.  
“Jeyne’s past.” Skinner’s voice sounded surprisingly calm, despite the fact that his life (quite literally) depended on this.  
“We’ve tried that already Skinner, don’t you remember?” Ramsay snapped. Reek flinched at his masters harsh words. Ramsay continued to stroke his hair, calming him once more. “I remember yes, but this time she won’t get the opportunity to kill any of us. Because the information is already here with us.”  
“Where? Don’t tell me that whore has got it. I wouldn’t trust a word she says. She probably lied about getting the file from Barbrey’s house too. I bet she took the opportunity to have a quick shag with her favourite teacher.” Ramsay spat in Myranda’s direction again.  
“All the information we need is in your lap Ramsay.” Skinner said calmly.  
They all turned to look at Reek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reek and Jeyne's history will be revealed in the next chapter. I promise!


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek tells them about his past. A piece becomes a player.

Reek did not meet the gazes of Myranda and Skinner. He kept his eyes on his masters’, like he had been trained to. Ramsay looked down at him, his cold eyes piercing. Reek trembled as his master carried on staring at him, thinking. Reek’s first instinct was to think that he had done something wrong and that Ramsay was thinking of a way to punish him. Once he worked out what it was, he could apologise.  
But Reek could think of nothing he’d done wrong. He began to panic as Ramsay continued to stare at him. “No.” His master finally said. Reek froze. No, what? “No?” Skinner raised a thick eyebrow.  
“My pet has suffered too much these past few weeks. His past has been haunting him. He almost had a break down for fuck sake! I already have my father and Baelish breathing down my neck. What if getting him to access those memories pushes him over the edge? He’ll be taken away from me!” Ramsay cried. Reek whined. Taken away? Where? Ramsay was all there was. He had nothing else. He couldn’t be taken away. “If we don’t get this information Ramsay, we will all die! You, me, Myranda, even Reek! You accused Myranda of causing all of this, but if you don’t get your pet to talk, you might as well sign a death warrant for each of us.” Skinner’s patience had worn thin, and he raised his voice to show it. Ramsay grimaced and looked down at his pet. Reek was the only one who could recognise the pain and anguish the decision was causing in his master’s eyes. Reek whined again. “Fine.” Ramsay sighed. He got off of the log and knelt down in front of his pet. Reek dared not flinch when his master cupped his face in his hands. Their faces were so close that Reek could smell the fags Ramsay had smoked, mingled with the bacon he had eaten for breakfast. “Listen to me Reek. You’ll never lie to me, will you?” Master asked.  
“No master.” Reek replied without hesitation.  
“Good, because I need you to tell me something, something very important.” Ramsay purred.  
“What master?”  
“What happened to Jeyne and Theon Greyjoy?” Ramsay smiled as his pet reeled away from the name. Reek slammed his hands over his ears, whimpering. They could just about hear him muttering “Reek, my name is Reek. It rhymes with meek, weak and sneak.”  
“It’s alright Reek…”  
“I know who I am!” Reek screamed.  
“I know you do Reek. This isn’t a trick. You will answer my question, won’t you Reek?” Reek knew it wasn’t a question. He knew it was a command. But what if it was some trick? Some game that would land him in trouble. He always lost and he always got hurt. “Come on Reek, we are waiting.” Reek whined, knowing this could cost him a tooth or a nail. But master was asking something of him. He could not refuse master. “They met at Winterfell, the Starks, they lived there. They weren’t friends, but they knew each other.” Reek began.  
“They?” Ramsay raised an eyebrow.  
“Jeyne and Th…Theon.” Reek stumbled over the name. Ramsay smirked. “He was taken away from his family because they were…they were…mean. Cruel. And he was bad. Always bad. He was arrogant and naughty. So they took him away and he lived with the Starks. There was Ned Stark, the father. Catelyn Stark, the mother. Robb was the eldest son, he made friends with Robb. Then there was Jon, he was Ned’s son, but not Catelyn’s. He didn’t fit in. Th…Theon had called him weird. He called him an emo because he was always miserable and had silly black hair. Then there was Sansa. She was pretty and girly. Jeyne was her friend. Jeyne was always around. Ned and her father were friends. Her father worked for Ned. They were like sisters. Jeyne and Sansa stayed away from the boys. Arya didn’t. Arya was the younger daughter. She was called Arya underfoot. Arya underfoot, because she always got in the way. She used to ruin the games and help Jon, because Theon and Robb ganged up on him. Then there was Bran and baby Rickon. They were…they were the youngest.”  
“It was all fine…until…until Ned Stark and Jeyne’s father were involved in a car crash. They had gone on a business trip to King’s Landing. Jeyne, Sansa and Arya were in the car too. But they survived. The impact killed their father’s. No one caught the driver that had crashed into them, they had driven off before anyone could stop them. The car was found later, burnt until nothing remained but a hollow shell. When the car Ned Stark had been driving was found, there was no sign of Arya but Jeyne and Sansa were taken into the care of the Lannister’s, who said that Catelyn Stark was not fit to be a mother. Jeyne’s mother had died of cancer when she was four. She was put into foster care. Sansa stayed with the Lannisters.”  
“Catelyn had to go to court in Kings Landing. Robb insisted on going with her. Jon had been put into care, because Catelyn didn’t like him. Theon didn’t see him again. He’s probably dead too. Catelyn left Theon, Bran and Rickon in Mr Luwin’s care. He was an old family friend. One night, Mr Luwin had to go to the hospital, he had a pain. He left Theon in charge. And…and then…” Reek broke down into tears.  
“Go on Reek.” Ramsay urged. Reek obeyed, sniffing. “Theon, naughty Theon. Bad Theon. He was smoking. He had the house to himself for the night. He had put the boys to bed. He sat up late, watching movies. He found some alcohol and some cigarettes. He doesn’t remember where he got them from. He drank a lot. He fell asleep and must’ve…he must have…” Reek wailed and rolled forward, clutching his head, as though in pain.   
“Keep going Reek.” Ramsay growled.  
“I can’t…master, please…I can’t!” He screamed. Ramsay got up and grabbed his pet by the hair, ignoring Reek’s yelp. “Keep. Going.” He spat.  
“He must’ve fallen asleep with a cigarette still lit. The house caught fire. The firemen managed to get him out, but the boys…those two boys…his brothers…my…” Reek wailed as though in pain again. He howled and clutched his head. “We should stop! Look what it’s doing to him!” Ramsay snapped.  
“No. We keep going.” Skinner insisted, meeting Ramsay’s glare. Ramsay gave in and encouraged Reek to continue. “They thought Theon was mad. They sent him to the mad place. They experimented and treated him. Then they got bored. He went into care. That was where he saw Jeyne again. She was older and prettier. Sometimes Mr Baelish would take her out of the home for the night and she would return the next day upset, saying Mr Baelish had made her do stuff. Sometimes it was with men, sometimes it was with women, sometimes it was both. And Theon would comfort her. Theon would make her feel better, and she would say that the fire wasn’t his fault. She said she would never leave him again, and he said he wouldn’t either. But…but she lied. No…he lied”  
“One day, Mr Baelish visited them both personally and told them they were going north again, to very special homes. He told them to forget about their pasts, and to look towards their future. So we…no, they…did. Jeyne was so excited. She got out of the car first. That was the last time she saw Theon. That was the last time Theon saw her.” Reek continued to cry. The den was silent for a moment, taking it all in. “And Alayne is Sansa, you are sure?” Ramsay asked him.  
“Yes Master.” Reek nodded.   
“Good. Now what is your name?”  
“Reek, it rhymes with leek.” Reek muttered, crawling over to his master, hoping for comfort.  
“Good Reek.” Skinner said. He sat thinking for a moment. “So we’ve established that Sansa was Jeyne’s friend, and that she is also Alayne. She was also the one texting Jeyne.” He paced up and down as though he were some sort of detective. Reek flinched when his master’s head snapped up. “Jeyne was texting her.” He muttered. His eyes stared into nothing. Reek began to tremble. “What if Jeyne…what if she told her everything? I mean _everything._ Everything she could before we killed her.” Ramsay suggested.  
“She knows we killed her. When Jeyne stopped texting. She knows” Myranda mumbled through her swollen lip.

The weather was dreary and the sky threatened her with rain. She knocked on the door again, praying for the woman to answer the door. She needed this. She needed to tell. She needed an alliance. Sansa held her breath as she heard footsteps on the other side of the door. When it opened, she said nothing. Mrs Ryswell stared at her for a moment in shock. To anyone else, the woman would just look tired. But Sansa knew that look all too well. The woman was grief-stricken. “Can I help you?” She asked wearily.  
“Hi, I…um…I’ve come from Mr Baelish…”  
“Please, just leave me be. I’ve told you all that I know and if he can’t help me, then I swear I’ll leave the matter be.” As the woman tried to shut the door in her face, Sansa wedged her foot in so it couldn’t be closed to her.  
“That’s just the thing Mrs Ryswell. No, Mr Baelish can’t help you. But I can.” Sansa insisted. Barbrey opened the door a little wider and frowned at the young girl on her doorstep. “Please, may I come in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I just read this through and realised that Reek sounded like Gollum in that confession bit. Never mind, I suppose they are similar in some ways.  
> At least now they have the information they need to get rid of her!


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skinner speaks. The Gods listen.

They gathered around the log that was serving as a table and sat down on the damp earth and dead leaves. The Weirwood watched them, crying its bloody tears. Ramsay stared down at the items before them. He felt Reek whimper and tremble beside him. “Have we got everything?” Ramsay asked.  
“It says we need a picture.” Skinner frowned at the instructions in his lap.  
“Could have told us earlier.” Myranda growled. Ramsay glared at her. “I have one.” He muttered, pulling out his phone. When he found the one picture he had of Jeyne, he placed his phone in amongst the other items. There was a charm bracelet already on the log, the one she had worn the night she died. Ramsay had taken it, thinking it might have some value. The knife that killed her grinned beside it in the candlelight. Candles encircled the items; only cheap tea lights, worth a copper for twenty. But the list had not said they were to be scented candles in glass jars, so they would serve. Ramsay’s eye was drawn to the picture. He didn’t even remember the day it had been taken. He was not one for photos, so Jeyne had obviously nagged him for as long as she’d dared. She had taken it herself, holding it in front of them in order to fit them both in. He looked miserable, not even trying to smile. She did though. She smiled prettily, but not at the camera. She looked at him. Had eyes only for him.  
He swallowed. Could he even remember when he’d met her? Had it been at school? His father had been good friends with Barbrey Dustin. It was possible he’d met her through some dinner party. No. Barbrey would have wanted to keep him as far away from Jeyne as physically possible.  
Perhaps that was what had made Jeyne so inviting. The girl herself had had nothing interesting about her. The challenge would’ve been tempting.  
He certainly didn’t think it had been worth all of this trouble though.  
He looked away from the picture, irritated by her memory. “Ready?” Skinner’s voice broke through his thoughts. They all nodded. “This thing says we have to join hands, you know, to strengthen the energy and shit.” They did so wordlessly. Ramsay held Myranda’s hand and, for some pointless amusement, began to crush it until he heard a crack. He smirked when blood ran down her chin from where she was biting her lip to stop from screaming. “That’s enough Ramsay.” Skinner growled. Ramsay loosened the grip and chuckled. He held out his other hand, which Reek instantly filled with his own. But when Skinner held out his hand for Reek to take, his pet froze. Reek gazed at Ramsay questioningly. Ramsay nodded his consent and Reek took Skinner’s hand. “Everyone ok?” Skinner asked.  
“Well I feel fuck all so far.” Snapped Myranda.  
“That’s because we haven’t started yet, slut!” Ramsay snarled.  
“Can we focus please?” Skinner barked, before Myranda could reply. They both pursed their lips, glared at each other one last time, then bowed their hands as Skinner instructed and closed their eyes. Skinner read from the scrap of paper on his lap. “Wicked spirit, if you are here with us now, show yourself to us. Come forth, bear witness to our words and stand forth for the Gods to judge you.” Ramsay felt the hairs on his neck stand on end as the breeze picked up and whispered in his ear. “Seven hells.” He heard Skinner breathe. He opened his eyes and followed Skinner’s gaze. Jeyne stood, unmoving, beneath the heart tree. She glared at them, her dead black eyes filled with malice and hatred. “Carry on.” Ramsay growled, returning her cold glare with his own.  
“Old Gods, hear us now. Hear our prayer and heed it. Send away this cruel spirit, whether it is to heaven or hell, rid this world of her wickedness.”  
“No!” They heard Jeyne cry.  
“Don’t look at her, keep your eyes shut and keep going!” Ramsay ordered.  
“Old gods, hear us. We plead you to rid us of her. She is cruel and heartless. Free us of her. Free this world of her evil.” Skinner read. They clung to each other as the wind picked up. Alongside the shrieking of the trees, Jeyne screamed. She howled and the sound pierced their ears. It was hard to tell whether it was the wind that tore at their clothes and hair, or if it was Jeyne. Ramsay heard Reek wail and shriek.  He felt Myranda’s hand begin to slip. “Do not let go. Shut your eyes. Keep your heads down. Do NOT let go of each other’s hands!” Ramsay yelled.  
“I can’t hold on for much longer!” Myranda argued.  
“Do you want me to crush your hand again?” Ramsay threatened. She didn’t reply.  
When Ramsay feared he himself would not be able to hold on any longer, Jeyne’s screams died away and the wind returned to a gentle breeze. None of them opened their eyes. They waited. All Ramsay could hear was Reek’s whimpering and the heavy breathing of Myranda and Skinner. He was the first to open his eyes. Ramsay looked around and smirked when he found the den to be empty. “She’s gone.” He said. He began to laugh hysterically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't upload a chapter yesterday, I actually went outside! But I had english today so I had an opportunity to write.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myranda finds out that, although Jeyne has gone, her life is still not what it used to be.

Despite the fact that they had managed to rid themselves of Jeyne, Myranda hardly noticed a difference. She still felt on edge and anxious. The bruises on her face from Ramsay’s beating stood out like sore thumbs against her pale complexion. He hadn’t even spoken to her since they’d gotten rid of Jeyne. Skinner had barely said anything either. She had spent the weekend alone, texting Skinner once to check if either he or Ramsay had seen Jeyne since the meeting. A simple ‘No’ had been his reply.  
Sure enough, when she’d reached school, neither Skinner nor Ramsay or Reek could be seen in their usual spot beneath the bike shed. She was late as usual, though perhaps today it was intentional.   
The school gates had been locked and so she had to climb over the fence. When she was readying herself for her descent, two year 8 boys appeared around the corner and stopped, laughing and whistling as they stared up her skirt. Even when she yelled down at them, they continued to make jokes. Myranda’s face turned red beneath the bruises. If Ramsay had been there, they wouldn’t have dared. But he wasn’t there to protect her and, knowing Ramsay, he never would be again. It was like he had said. She was nothing.  
She trudged towards the theatre block. That was another thing she wasn’t looking forward to. How could she ever look Mr Ryswell in the eye again? With a heavy heart, and heavier feet, she continued towards the drama block, pulling out the forged letter from her coat pocket. She had written it, mimicking her mother’s hand, demanding that she was to be taken out of the school play. She hadn’t been able to think of a reason. She didn’t think she’d need one. Mr Ryswell would understand, and he would be quite glad of it, no doubt.

She sat amongst the theatre kids as they whispered, whined and moaned over their loss. She envied them. They did not know what loss was. She did. Yet she held her tongue all the same. When they heard the door open, the muttering died down to silence and they turned to look at Myranda.   
Sansa did her best to hide her smirk.  
Every time she saw Myranda these days, the girl looked worse for worse. A part of her did dare to wonder why. Sansa knew the girl had been going through shit. That she was glad of. She deserved it. But where had she gotten the bruises from? Her mother? Ramsay? Sansa hoped so. She hoped he would turn on her like he had on Jeyne. Myranda met each gaze in turn, pausing when her eyes met Sansa’s. Then she continued looking around the room. “Where is Mr Ryswell?” She asked them. Sansa could see her going pail beneath the bruises. “Why do you need to know?” Snapped Harrion Karstark, who was probably the angriest out of the lot of them, considering he was the one that was supposed to be playing Macbeth.   
“Because I have something to give him.” Myranda snapped back. Sansa could hear the tremor in her voice. “Oh yeah, I bet you do.” Harrion growled. With a face like thunder, he stormed from the room, pushing past Myranda on his way out. The room went silent again. “What was that all about?” Myranda asked nervously. They all glared at her. “Mr Ryswell has been fired.” Palla informed. Myranda didn’t ask why. She didn’t need to. “Alayne’s dad saw you with him.” Added Calon. They all looked away. Sansa’s eyes met Myranda’s. Sansa smiled when she saw a glimpse of guilt on Myranda’s face. The girl had caused this, and she knew it. But Sansa knew that Mr Ryswell would suffer very little. It had been part of the deal. Petyr had contacts. He would sort all of this out, Sansa had promised Mrs Barbrey that. In exchange for her help.  
Myranda knew none of this. For all she knew, she’d ruined a man’s life. “I think Miss Hornwood will want to see you Myranda.” Sansa said, a smile still on her lips. Myranda glared at her. When Myranda realised she was being glared at herself by the entire group, she turned and walked away.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know, but oh so very sweet.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay and Skinner continue plotting to rid themselves of the girls that are still breathing.

He saw her leave through the window of his classroom. He smirked as she was let out of the school gates, head low, feet dragging. He already knew the reason for her expulsion. The entire school was talking about it. The entire school hated her for it. Ramsay smiled at that. The bitch deserved the hate. He would bide his time; allow the hatred to eat at her, as he knew it did. Then he would punish her himself. She had betrayed him. She was disloyal. After all he had done for her; Jeyne would never have dared to disobey him in such a way. The girl might have been bland and stupid, but at least she was loyal.  
Ramsay turned away from the window when Skinner dug his elbow into his ribs. “What?” He asked. Skinner tilted his head towards the door where Alayne, no, Sansa was coming in. She met his gaze. Her blue eyes hardened and she turned her face away, as though disgusted by him. “We need to do something about her. She knows too much.” Ramsay muttered.  
“I’ll deal with it.” Skinner replied, watching Sansa as she sat down. Ramsay could almost feel his friend’s brain working as he thought of the best way to get the bitch. “Try not to make a scene of it. If anything, make it look as though she ran away, or it was an accident. Too many people have died around us. Dad says people are going to start getting suspicious.” Ramsay whispered, recalling his father’s speech last night.  
Despite the fact it had been a Sunday, Roose Bolton had been stuck at work for the entire day, trying to sort out the recent deaths. The parents had been asking questions that he couldn’t answer, and the violence of the deaths had even attracted media attention. “What is going on Ramsay?” He had asked. “Three of your friends have died. And none of them can be easily described as an accident.”  
“Don’t worry father, I’ve taken care of it.” Ramsay had said, smiling and stroking Reek’s hair absent mindedly. His father had given him a cold look before heading into his office, not to come out of it until the early hours of the morning.   
Ramsay had allowed Reek in his bed that night and they had both slept easier than they had done for weeks. Reek had not whimpered all night and they did not wake until Ramsay’s alarm sounded in the morning. Ramsay was in a better mood for it, even Reek seemed happier.

When the end of school bell rang, the place was still buzzing about the news of Myranda and Mr Ryswell’s affair. No one had dared to ask Ramsay about it, but throughout the day he had made sure he had spoken of it with Skinner when a gang of gossipers were nearby so they would go and spread further rumours. He had even gone as far to say Myranda had taken Mr Ryswell up to her flat. The rest he left to their no doubt vivid imaginations. He also put out the idea that it had been going on for far longer than what Mr Baelish had witnessed; that Myranda had always stayed late after school for ‘rehearsals’, and Mr Ryswell always offered her lifts home. Not that they were lies of course. By the end of the day, he had heard the word whore being said multiple times.  
“Are you going to deal with her today?” Ramsay asked Skinner as they glimpsed Sansa ahead of them.  
“Perhaps. I need more information on her habits first, you know, places she goes where she is alone. Do you think she’ll go to the police?”   
“No. Not yet. She has no evidence. Besides, she’d only have the pleasure of confessing our crimes to Constable Walton, and he already knows all of them. The girl’s out of her depth, she just doesn’t know it yet.” Ramsay grinned wickedly.  
“Nor will she. And what about Myranda?” Skinner asked.  
“What about her?” Ramsay snapped.  
“Are we going to tell her about any of this?”  
“No.” Ramsay spat. And that was that. They continued walking in silence with Reek stumbling along behind them. Neither of them took their eyes off of Sansa. When she turned off the road, Skinner said “Excuse me, I’ve got some hunting to do.” He grinned, looking forward to it. Ramsay envied him, but with Mr Baelish threatening to take his Reek away, he couldn’t risk getting any more involved. “Come on Reek.” He muttered, throwing his arm around his pets shoulder and heading for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short again, but very much necessary.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The woods were the long way back, and walking through them reminded her of home. Her real home. There were also Weirwood trees scattered around, which she would occasionally kneel beside and pray to. Not today though. Before she could even think of the old gods her father had worshipped, her phone went off in her pocket.

She walked slowly through the woods, not wanting to get home earlier than need be. She knew that Petyr wouldn’t be home yet, leaving her with no one but the whores, and they weren’t known for their conversational skills. The woods were the long way back, and walking through them reminded her of home. Her real home. There were also Weirwood trees scattered around, which she would occasionally kneel beside and pray to. Not today though. Before she could even think of the old gods her father had worshipped, her phone went off in her pocket. “Hey Barbrey, what’s going on? Have you spoken to them? Well, what do you mean they won’t do anything?” Sansa stopped walking when she heard a twig snap behind her. She took a deep breath. She kept walking. “Yes, I know that Mr Bolton is well known. I also know he’s a good friend of Constable Walton. Isn’t there another officer you can speak with? What about the police in White Harbour? You’re good friends with Mr Manderly aren’t you? Ok, good luck. Call me later and let me know how you get on.” She hung up, smiling. That should give him enough information to keep him interested.  
She carried on walking.  
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.  
She walked faster and took a left hand turn. The path she was now on would loop around and bring her back onto the track she had just been on. She wound through the trees, smiling as the noises lessened behind her. She slowed down a little. She wondered whether it was Ramsay or Skinner following her. It was highly unlikely that Theon had been trusted with such a task.  
Whoever it was, they weren’t doing very well. The woods behind her were silent. No birds sang. No rabbits scurried through the undergrowth. Sansa shivered. _Winter is coming_. The words made her heart feel heavy, and it reminded her of the gaping hole inside her chest. A part of her heart was missing; buried six feet under, in too many graves a girl wished to count. When she passed a Weirwood tree, she prayed silently, not stopping. She thanked the gods for the silence behind her. They didn’t answer.  
When the pathway joined the track she had been walking along, she stopped dead. Perhaps the gods had heard her prayers after all.

Ramsay sat in the lounge with Reek’s head in his lap. The TV was on, but he wasn’t watching it. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t hear his father walk in. “What are you doing?” Roose asked, sitting down with a paper.  
“Thinking.”  
“Don’t.” His father growled. Ramsay screwed up his face in annoyance and slumped in his chair. He looked outside the window to where the sky was darkening. “Winter is coming.” He muttered. Reek whined. Roose Bolton peered up at him. “What?” He asked, turning the page of the paper over.  
“The nights are drawing in. Winter is coming.” Ramsay repeated. Roose released an irritated sigh. Ramsay returned to staring out of the window. He had expected to hear from Skinner by now. Had he dealt with Sansa yet? Or did he plan on doing so another day? “I hear your whore has been expelled.” Roose said, unexpectedly attempting to make conversation.  
“She’s not my whore.” Ramsay snapped.  
“No, I don’t suppose she is.” Roose almost smiled. “Constable Walton received an inquiry today.” He informed.  
“So?” Ramsay mumbled.  
“From Mrs Dustin.” Ramsay shrugged. “Why do you think that is?” Roose asked.  
“Because she’s a nosy cow who doesn’t like the fact the blame fell on her.” He snapped.  
“Ramsay.” His father’s tone was a warning in itself.  
“What?”  
“She wants to reopen the case. She seems to believe that she has new evidence.” Roose folded up the paper, his cold eyes watched Ramsay’s every move.  
“I’m dealing with it.” He snarled.   
“See to it you do, otherwise…” Roose Bolton was cut off when his phone began to ring. He picked it up, listened, and then hung up. Ramsay flinched as the ghost grey eyes returned to him. “You said you’d taken care of it.” Roose purred. Ramsay frowned. On his lap, he felt Reek begin to tremble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these past three chapters have been so short. Fear not! The story most certainly picks up from here onward :)


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay and Myranda make one last desperate attempt to rid themselves of Jeyne once and for all.

Roose hurried around the house, collecting documents, files, his coat and his briefcase. Ramsay remained seated, unable to move through the shock. “How?” He vaguely remembered asking.  
“He was flayed alive. He was still breathing when he was found, but only just.” Before Ramsay could ask any more questions, a siren sounded outside. “That’ll be Walton. He said he’d pick me up on his way there. Stay here. Say nothing to anyone.” Ramsay nodded, but knew he had to ignore his father’s orders. The moment he heard the car door slam shut, he turned to his Reek, cupping the gaunt face in his large pale hands. “Listen to me very carefully Reek. I need you to go upstairs, go into our room and stay there. Here, take my phone. If anything happens, call father. Whatever you do, do not come out of our room, understand? Lock the doors if it makes you feel safer. Go!” Ramsay ordered. Reek scampered off hesitantly, not wishing to be parted from his master. He looked back once, pleading with those big, frightened eyes, begging to remain with his master. “Go. Now!” Ramsay roared. Somewhere inside of him though, he longed to call Reek back, to take his pet with him.   
But he couldn’t.  
He knew that he was next on Jeyne’s list. He needed to keep her away from Reek long enough for something to be done.  
Knowing that he didn’t have much time, Ramsay grabbed his father’s car keys. He knew how to drive. There had been many a time when a stolen car had been included in one of his hunts. This time though, he knew the bitch he was hunting was dead already, and that he was all alone in this. His friends were gone. They would never hunt with him again. How could they have been so stupid? They had been so eager to believe that she’d gone for good that they hadn’t even considered the possibility she had been tricking them all along.  
Ramsay cursed under his breath as he opened the front door, where he almost walked into Myranda, whose fist was raised, ready to knock on the door. “What are you doing here?” He growled. Her face was red, her eyes were puffy, and her cheeks were stained by tears. “She’s back. She killed Skinner.” She sniffed.  
“She’s not back. She never left!” He snapped, pushing past her.  
“Ramsay, please!” She cried. He whirled around to face her. “What?”  
“Where are you going? She asked, taking in the keys in his hand.  
“To find the bitch, before she finds me.” He snarled. There was no way he was going to let Jeyne win without a fight. He climbed into the car. “I’m coming with you.” She announced, wiping away the tears. Ramsay opened his mouth to protest, but he could tell by the look in her eyes that she was in no mood to be argued with. The look reminded him of why he’d sacrificed so much for her. “Fine.” He muttered, holding back a smile. She climbed in the car beside him. “I’ll see if I can find a way to get rid of her.” She said, pulling out a mobile phone. Ramsay ignored her and said nothing.

They seemed to be driving around for hours, yet their efforts appeared fruitless. Ramsay had no idea where to begin searching for a dead girl. “Perhaps we should try the woods.” Myranda suggested. Unable to think of a better idea, Ramsay pulled into an empty car park. “We’ll split up. Meet me back here in fifteen minutes.” Ramsay said, pulling out the crossbow his dad kept in his car. He doubted it would be much use against a ghost, but he felt better for it all the same. “What shall we do if one of us finds her?” Myranda shuddered, peering into the dark forest.  
“Scream.” Ramsay replied, grinning. Before she could protest, he hurried into the woods. Every branch was a hand and every twig a claw. As he moved deeper into the woods, the darkness seemed to swallow him. Ramsay paid it no mind. He was a hunter. In the woods and under the cover of darkness, he came alive. He picked his way along the path, avoiding any twigs or dry leaves so as not to make a sound and signal his approach before he wanted to. Up ahead, he glimpsed a shadow cross his path, it soon disappeared amongst the darkness of the trees. “I know you’re there Jeyne!” He called, readying his crossbow. “I don’t like it when you fuck with my friends. You remember that don’t you? Do you remember what I did to you after you argued with Myranda? Why, of course you do!” He laughed at the taunt. “I sent you upstairs, you obeyed like a good little bitch. Then I fucked you until you were bloody! And do you know what? It was better than when you consented to it! When I fucked you beneath the Weirwood tree, before we killed you, that was the best I’ve ever had!” His laughter rang through the trees. Ramsay heard a rustling in the trees beside him. He loosed an arrow.  
The rabbit scampered off into a bush.  
“Fool.” Ramsay growled to himself. He readied another arrow.

He was acutely aware that his fifteen minutes were almost up. Sighing in frustration, Ramsay took one last look into the darkness ahead of him, before turning around and heading back to the car park. He had hoped he might’ve been able to reach the den, which he knew was close by, but he had told Myranda fifteen minutes, and he had given his phone to Reek in case of emergencies. He had no choice but to return to the car park, where he found Myranda waiting for him. “Did you find her?” She asked.  
“Did you hear me scream? If I’d come across her, I would be dead.” He snarled.  
“Well, for all I know, you could be her! You could’ve killed Ramsay and are impersonating him to try and trick me!” She snapped.  
“Do you want me to leave you here?” He growled. Myranda went pale. “No.” She muttered. “Let’s get out of here.” She added, shivering. Before they could get into the car, they heard something crashing through the undergrowth behind them. Ramsay span around and readied the crossbow. “Did you manage to find a way to get rid of her yet?” He asked in a hushed voice. But before she could reply, the figure burst from the trees. Reek stopped dead in his tracks when he saw them. “Reek! What are you doing here?” Ramsay bellowed, striding towards the disobedient pet. He was stopped by Myranda grabbing his arm. “Ramsay, wait!” She hissed.    
“What?” He snapped. She glanced nervously at the figure beneath the trees. “Reek would never dare to disobey you.” She whispered. Ramsay frowned at her, then looked back at Reek. “You’re right.” He admitted. “Then. That isn’t Reek.” He said.  
“No. We need to act normal.” She insisted. “Call her over, pretend that you think it’s him.” She ordered.  
“Then what?” Ramsay asked, never taking his eyes off of Jeyne.  
“We need to destroy her while she’s in a physical form, and I need to say a prayer too, like we did when we summoned the bad spirits. I figured that was what was missing when we tried to get rid of her before. Get her in the car.” She said. Ramsay nodded. “Here Reek.” He ordered, in the commanding tone that came so easily to him.  
“Master…please…I…”  
“You’ve been very disobedient pet. You need to be punished.” Ramsay grinned, as did Myranda who had moved to the back of the car.  
“I know master. I know I’ve been a bad Reek, but I need…”  
“Get in the car Reek.” Ramsay ordered. Jeyne tried to escape, scampering away. Ramsay was too quick for her though. He grabbed a fistful of hair and dragged her, kicking and screaming, towards the car. He threw her inside and locked the doors. “What now?” He asked, laughing as she threw herself against the door like a fly does in hope of escaping through a closed window.  
“We do what she tried to do with your Reek.” Myranda replied. She pulled out the petrol can in the back of Roose’s car. His father was a practical man, never leaving home without the bare necessities, such as petrol and a crossbow. “Fire away!” Ramsay laughed. Myranda laughed with him and drowned the car in the fluid as Jeyne grew ever more frantic inside. “You have a lighter?” Myranda asked, throwing away the empty can. Ramsay pulled out his lighter and held it to the car, pulling his hand back as soon as it was lit. The pain of the burn was masked however by the wonderful sound of screaming from within. Myranda could still be heard above the racket, singing her prayer. He could occasionally glimpse Jeyne inside, thrashing as the flames engulfed her. She was still in Reek’s form, which caused Ramsay to wince occasionally. “Don’t worry, that’s her. Your Reek is safe at home.” Myranda giggled, watching the thrashing figure with glee.  
“Let’s go. My dad’s going to kill me when he finds out what has happened to his car.” Ramsay said, forgetting himself and wrapping his arm around Myranda’s shoulders.   
“Don’t worry, it was worth it.” She smiled up at him. Ramsay smiled back. He kept his arm around her as they made the long walk home.

The house was dark when they got back. “Do you want to come in?” Ramsay asked, raising his eyebrow suggestively. He was in a good mood, his revenge could wait a while. “Sure.” Myranda replied, smiling her seductive smile.  
“I’m sure Reek will want to join in as well. We have a lot to celebrate.” Ramsay laughed.  
“I don’t doubt he will.” Ramsay opened the door and gestured for her to go in. She headed straight over to the drinks cabinet. “I think we’ve earned some of the good stuff, don’t you?” She grabbed two bottles of his father’s favourite whiskey. Ramsay grabbed one, tore off the lid and took a deep drink. “Come on!” He smiled, allowing some whiskey to dribble down his chin. He led the way upstairs. “Reek! You can come out now pet! We are all quite safe!” Ramsay called.  
There was no answer.  
“Reek? Come on pet!” Ramsay opened the door to his bedroom. The room was dark inside. A light breeze filled the room from where a window had been left wide open. Ramsay hurried around frantically, scanning every nook and cranny in case Reek had gotten frightened and tried to hide. “REEK! REEK! STOP HIDING, GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!” Ramsay roared. His voice seemed to bounce off the walls. That was the only reply. Then there came a gentle buzzing sound. Ramsay looked about to try and find the source. His phone was vibrating on the dresser. He went and picked it up, checking the number. “Who is it?” Myranda asked.  
Ramsay swallowed nervously.  
“It’s you.”  
He didn’t hear the glass bottle swooping through the air before it was far too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you thought this was going to have a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay comes face to face with Jeyne, and this face-off is only just beginning.

When he woke up, he was in darkness. Something was covering him, blocking his view of the world from outside its blue walls. Ramsay tried to move his head, to make sense of his surroundings, but the pain was too much for him to handle. He could feel something hot and sticky on the back of his neck. He could smell the blood.  
The bottle.  
Reek.  
 _Jeyne.  
_ As the memories came back to him, he choked out a wail of despair. Had he stayed silence, he may have bought himself more time. But what good would that time be if he was alone? Without his Reek?   
Jeyne tore off the sheet that had been covering him. He made no attempt to move, he just muffled his groan of grief into the mattress. “Good evening.” Jeyne giggled. “I see you’ve finally woken up at last!” He heard her moving around the room behind him. That’s when he realised he was face down on his bed. She had stripped him naked while he was knocked out. On trying to move, he discovered that he was tied down. Ropes burned into his wrists and ankles, though pulling on them only tightened their grip on him. “Hush now, don’t struggle! I just want to play a little game.” She laughed.  
“You’ve played your fucking games. I’ve lost my mates, and I’ve lost my Reek! You killed my Reek!” Ramsay wailed, lifting his head as high as he could so that she could hear him. He knew he shouldn’t break in front of her, but fighting the emotions inside him seemed fruitless now. What was there left to fight for? “Actually, _you_ killed your Reek.” She laughed. “All I did was pour petrol on the car. It was your lighter and your hand. See? Your hand is burned.” Ramsay couldn’t look. She was right. He had allowed himself to be fooled. He had lit the fire himself. “If it makes you feel any better, it was surprisingly easy to get him just where I wanted. It appears your pet isn’t as eager to obey you as you first thought. Theon was always like that, he never wanted to obey.” He could hear her moving about the room, opening and closing cupboards, but the pain in his head and the way he was tied down prevented him from turning around to see what she was doing. “Theon always did what he wanted. Except when it came to Robb of course. He was _always_ loyal to Robb Stark.” Ramsay roared into the pillow and began to thrash about as the rage built up inside him. He knew it was what she wanted, but he didn’t care anymore. “Reek was _mine_! He was always loyal to _me_!” He cried. Jeyne stopped. “Apparently not. All it took was a text to make him come running. A simple ‘Your master and I are playing a little game. Why not come and join us?’ was enough. He obviously cared about you though. And save you, obviously.” She chuckled.  
“Reek only wanted to please _me_. Anything he did, it was because _I_ told him to. You killed him for that?” Ramsay growled.  
“There was a time when all _I_ wanted to do was please you! And that seemed enough to get me killed! Why should he be spared?” Jeyne growled back.  
“So that was why you did it? You were jealous of Reek? You wanted revenge.” He muttered, slumping down onto the mattress.  
“Oh no, no. I was not jealous of Reek. And revenge I suppose is a sort of…excuse. No. I killed because, like you it seems, I enjoy it!” She laughed. Ramsay hadn’t heard her approach, but she was suddenly sitting on top of his buttocks. He tried to thrash, but it was no good. She used her legs to cling to his naked body. She ran a finger down his back. Her skin was icy cold and caused him to shudder. She continued to stroke his back, admiring the goose bumps on his skin. “This feels so strange.” She breathed. Her strokes swept up and down him faster, as though she were unable to stop. “I can _feel_ you.” She whispered. Yes, Ramsay could feel her too. Her touch felt queer on his skin, it seemed to burn and chill at the same time. It felt…good. “Get off of me.” He growled, disliking the sensation. He heard her hiss, then cried out as she dug her nails into his back and pulled them down, tearing the skin open. “I’ll get off of you when I like!” She spat, leaning down to whisper in his ear.   
“If you are going to kill me, just do it!” He growled. He shivered as she nuzzled at his neck, running her tongue down and over his shoulder. He could feel her pressing into him. Before the sigh he was biting back could escape his lips, she sunk her teeth deep into his shoulder, tearing off a chunk of flesh. He screamed in agony. She grabbed his chin and pulled his face around, ignoring him when he winced. Once again, he was startled by the darkness in her eyes. They were so full of malice and hatred that he thought they alone would be enough to kill him. Her mouth glistened red, his blood dribbling down her chin. “I’m the one who makes all the rules.” She purred, smiling. “Now, to begin!” She laughed, climbing off of him. He slumped back onto the mattress, groaning, glad to be relieved of her strange touch. For now, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to stretch this out a little. It'll be more fun that way!


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay's nightmare continues.

A loud bang forced his head to shoot back up painfully. He cried out, but Jeyne didn’t seem to be listening. “Ah! Here we are, perfect!” She laughed.  
“What are you doing?” He growled as she banged and crashed around behind him.  
“Why exploring of course! I always did wonder what it was inside this cupboard that scared your Reek so much on my night time visits. And now it seems I know!” He growled as she searched through his cupboard, picking out weapons of her choosing. Quietly humming to herself all the while. Ramsay knew the song all too well. “What did I tell you about that fucking song?” He snarled.  
“What? You Haunt Me? I think it’s rather appropriate don’t you?” She laughed, walking back over to him. Once again, she climbed onto him so that she sat on his buttocks. “Now, phase one!” She giggled. Ramsay felt the familiar sensation of a flaying knife slipping beneath his skin. He bit down on his bottom lip, allowing only whimpers to escape him. “Forgive me if I fuck up, I haven’t had the same amount of practise as you!” She muttered. Suddenly, Ramsay found himself laughing. By the time she had stripped his back of skin, he was in hysterics. “Why are you laughing?” She asked softly, though he could hear the irritation in them.   
“My father has flayed me more times than I can count. It’s beginning to lose its touch.” He smirked. Once again, she rested her body on him, pressing deeply onto his wrecked back, causing him to wince. “Did I say I was done?” He could hear the smirk in her voice. Before Ramsay could come up with some clever reply, he screamed in pain. Jeyne smiled her wicked smile as she poured the lye onto his ruined back. The pain was far worse than any flaying he had ever received. He could feel the lye eating away at what remained of his flesh. Jeyne laughed as he thrashed about on the bed. “Get it off! GET IT OFF!” He screamed, twisting and writhing in agony. She placed her cold hands in amongst the mess. “That feels good. All warm and fuzzy. Really, I don’t know what you are complaining about Ramsay! It’s lovely!” She squealed. Slowly, she began to rub her hands up and down his back, spreading the lye further across his skin. She massaged him, moving her hips back and forth as he screamed and wailed. She ran her hands up over his shoulders, spreading the lye into the bite mark she had made. He howled with agony. “Please! Make it stop!” He shrieked. Tears stung his eyes. One lonely tear ran down his cheek and fell onto the mattress. Jeyne’s black eyes instantly noticed the single, spreading splotch. “Oh, are you crying? Here, allow me to wipe away those tears for you.” He heard the malice in her voice and began to thrash again.   
“Don’t you fucking dare!” He roared. His protests were fruitless however. Slowly, spreading the lye up his neck, Jeyne ran her cold, lye covered hands towards his face. Ramsay was sure Reek would hear his screams as her fingers rubbed and poked deep into his eyes. Then, as his cornea’s burnt away and the world became a dark blur, he remembered. There was no Reek. Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know, but a lot of fun!


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could not see the world around him. He twitched his head from left to right in an attempt to get his bearings, but that only made Jeyne laugh more.  
> What wounded him most of all was the voice. “No! Please! I am loyal Reek! Good Reek! I only want to obey master! My name is Reek! It rhymes with weak, sneak and meek!”

Years of hunting was bound to heighten the senses. It is not only keen eyesight that is needed to seek and catch your pray. You need to smell their fear, and hear them as the crash through the undergrowth. Sometimes, your prey tries to hide, so you need to be able to hear the slightest shuffle, or their heavy breathing.  
Ramsay longed for his ears to be burnt off along with his eyes.  
He could not see the world around him. He twitched his head from left to right in an attempt to get his bearings, but that only made Jeyne laugh more.  
What wounded him most of all was the voice. “No! Please! I am loyal Reek! Good Reek! I only want to obey master! My name is Reek! It rhymes with weak, sneak and meek!” The same voice was played over and over as Jeyne searched through and watched the videos on Ramsay’s phone, laughing at some of them. “Please! Reek loves master! Reek only has master!” Ramsay felt tears on his cheeks and released a muffled moan of grief.  
“Aw, are you crying again?” He heard Jeyne ask. He wanted to stop, but the tears continued. “Please…kill me.” He muttered.  
“I’m sorry, what was that?” He could hear the evil satisfaction in her voice.  
“KILL ME!” He wailed.  
“Hush now, you might not be so eager once you recall what you did to me that night.” She chuckled. He was silent. “Your friend Ben had his dogs hunt me down so I could not escape. So I had them maul him. Sour Alyn knocked me out and brought me back to the den. So I smashed his head in. Damon terrorised me by wrapping a noose around my neck. So I hanged him. And Skinner, dear Skinner, he flayed me. So I relieved him of his skin. He was still howling in agony when I left him. I would have loved to stick around and wait, but it seemed my friend was not as foolish as you thought. I had to leave before she saw me.”  
“Sansa?” He gasped.  
“Yes. Sansa. Now, back to your turn. You raped me. Apparently it was the best you’d ever had. Myranda can’t have been a very good whore then. Quite frankly, I’ve had many men a great deal better than you.” He heard her move about behind him. “Unfortunately for you,” He heard her go through his special cupboard again. “I have no intention of fucking you. I never want you in me ever again.” He heard her choose her weapon and make her way back over to him. “So, I suppose we are just going to have to find some other way.” He waited for her to climb back on top of him again. But her cold touch did not come. Instead, he felt something hard and rough between his buttocks. “This might hurt a little.” She smirked. In a split second, Ramsay understood what she was about to do. “No! Plea…” His begging became a scream as she shoved the butt of the spear into him. He had used it before on his Reek. Only once though. His pet had been in so much pain that he had been unable to stand up for days. In the end, they had had to call a doctor out. That had been difficult to explain. He screeched and wailed as she pushed it in, then out again. The butt of the spear was carved wood, and made about as thick as a fist. It was not sanded down either, and Ramsay could feel splinters left inside of him, driven deeper each time she pushed into him. She drove into him, deeper each time, his screams getting louder and louder. With her other hand, she scratched at his back, tearing at what remained, and spreading the lye deeper into his wounds. His blindness, in some ways, may have been a blessing. At least he couldn’t see the blood, and he would never have to see those dead black eyes or that wicked smile again.

When he thought he was ready to pass out from the pain, Jeyne pulled the butt of the spear out of him one last time. “Did you like that whore?” She chuckled. Ramsay groaned in relief that she had stopped, only to scream again when she slammed her knee down onto his arse, applying pressure to the sensitive area. She grabbed a handful of hair and pulled him up, forcing his back into an uncomfortable position. "I asked you a question. Did you enjoy that whore?” She growled. He was shocked to hear his own voice, and took a moment to wonder if she had changed into him. He would have argued back. He would have said no. But death was holding him by his hair. Perhaps he would join his Reek soon. “Yes. I did enjoy it.” He croaked.  
“Very good, whore. For that, I shall grant you mercy.” She released him and allowed him to flop back down onto the mattress. He smiled. Then he heard a whirring sound. He could hear her spinning the spear through the air. He could see her wicked smile in the darkness. The last thing he felt before the pain of death was the cold steel of a spear head gently kissing between his buttocks.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeyne moves on to her next victim.

She stumbled through the woods, using the light from her phone to guide the way. The woods were quiet around her. Finally, she found herself in the den. The dense bracken surrounded her, the Weirwood watched her, the shadows cast on its face made it look as though it were looking down on her in disgust. Myranda shook her head violently, to try and escape the thought. She stumbled over backwards, forgetting how much she’d had to drink. “Fuck.” She slurred, struggling to stand up. She looked around, peering into the darkness. “Ramsay? I’m here! What do you want?” She asked. Perhaps he had left. It had taken her some time to reach the woods. The quickest way had been blocked off by police, probably due to some car accident. Or a stabbing, it was not uncommon around here. Either way, she’d had to go via the roads, resulting her nearly being hit multiple times. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a fire engine speed down one of the narrow country lanes. If she looked eastwards, the sky was lit up, the dark clouds turned a deep orange as a fire burned not that far away. Myranda just hoped it wasn’t a forest fire.  
She checked her phone again. The message had come about an hour ago, not that she remembered that far back. Had she been out or at home? She’d come running nonetheless, her drunken mind thinking it would be some sort of apology. A part of her wished for a second chance. Ramsay was the only person that had ever helped her release her rage, with his hunts and the way he would torment his pet. Why had she thrown that all away?  
Jeyne. That was why.  
But she was gone now. Surely Ramsay would understand. If she could just explain what she had gone through…  
She heard a twig snap behind her and whirled around, earning a head rush. She stumbled a little but managed to steady herself before she fell over. Eventually, the world stopped spinning and a figure came into view. “Reek?” She gasped.  
“I’m so sorry.” Reek muttered, wringing his hands together in the nervous way that he did.  
“What the fuck are you sorry for?” She growled.  
“No. I’m so sorry. They made me…I didn’t want to…I was so scared! They forced me to do it!” Reek wailed. Myranda frowned. He wasn’t making sense. “Did Ramsay set this up? Who made you do what?” She snapped, though there was a slight tremor in her voice.  
“Why, we did of course.” Myranda shivered. She knew that voice. She knew that voice all too well. But the source of the voice did not yet reveal herself. Instead, one by one, Ramsay’s gang appeared from the bushes. They surrounded her. All of them; Ben, Sour Alyn, Damon, Skinner, Reek and Ramsay. Though none of their faces moved, it were as though they were simply puppets. Myranda knew who was pulling their strings. “You’re dead! You’re all dead!” She screamed, tears forming a lump in her throat.  
“How heart-warming it is that you were so willing to come when I called.” Ramsay’s voice was cold and flat. Somewhere in the forest, she heard Jeyne giggle. “Did you really think that I was going to forgive you whore?” Ramsay’s voice became more and more like his own. He went and stood beside Reek. “We should teach her a lesson.” She heard Damon say.  
“No, something far more drastic needs to be done.” Finally Jeyne made her appearance. Myranda’s eyes widened when she realised. She had said those words herself, on the night they…on the night she…  
“You have been very disobedient Myranda. You refused to be a loyal bitch. There is something dark within you Myranda. Something that must be destroyed.” Jeyne’s voice was filled with mocking and she smiled her wicked smile.  
“No! Please! Leave me be!” Myranda screamed, covering her ears.   
“No Myranda. We are here to help you.” Jeyne’s voice invaded her head, her laughter shook her brain. Shaking her head, in a desperate attempt to rid herself of it, Myranda spotted a gap in the bushes.  
She began to run.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myranda's nightmare continues, and Jeyne has some surprises in store to help spice things up a bit!

She ran as fast as she was able, but the drink was slowing her down. The trees span and danced around her, causing her stomach to churn. She had to stop for a moment, just to wretch. That was when she heard them. The hounds crashed and bounded through the bushes, barking all the while. Myranda took a deep breath and cleared her head a little before taking up running again. Yes! She was going faster now! She leapt gracefully over the stream, not pausing for breath when she landed. Her feet were a blur beneath her. But still the hounds barked around her. No matter how fast she ran, she was unable to escape their taunts. A thought slid through her mind. Were the hounds really there at all? Did Jeyne conjure them up?  
She wasn’t about to stop and ask.  
She continued to run, each breath coming shorter and seemed to sap just as much energy from her as running did. Yet she carried on. _“I’m a fighter.”_ She thought. _“I have not suffered through my entire shitty life for it to end like this.”_ The thoughts spurred her on. Surely she was near the edge of the woods by now?  
Before she had time to find out, a bark rang out directly in front of her. “You can’t run away from us Myranda!” She heard Ben yell. She began to sob when she realised that he spoke the truth. Before she could bring herself to stop, she saw two red eyes glinting in front of her. The dog leapt up and knocked her to the ground, its companions soon gathered around her, biting and tearing at her clothes to get to the flesh below. Their eyes glowed red, but had the same look of malice that Jeyne’s black eyes had. When she tried to push them off, their fur and flesh felt deathly cold and made her shiver. “Get off!” She growled, shoving at them and clawing at their faces in the faint hope that they would give up. “Down girls, heel!” She heard Ben call. Immediately the hounds were off of her. She leapt up. She wasn’t weak like Jeyne had been. She began to run again, but found she could go no further as Sour Alyn blocked her path. “Please, Alyn, let me go!” She wailed. But there was no hint of recognition in Sour Alyn’s dead eyed gaze. “We can’t purge you of your demons here Myranda, it must be before the gods!” Jeyne’s mocking tone echoed through the trees, surrounding her.  
“No! I’m not like you! I won’t go back!” She screeched. With a sudden burst of speed, she managed to dodge past Alyn. She felt his cold fingers brush her shoulder. She looked over her shoulder to see him staring at her, a look of anger plastered on his face. She laughed with sadistic glee. His face turned thunderous and, with inhuman speed, he began to run. He was just a blur as he passed her. Myranda barely had time to realise what had happened before his hand came up to meet her face. The force of the blow sent her flying through the air. She landed on her back, dazed and unable to breathe. Sour Alyn looked down at her. “Did we say you’d get a choice?” He growled. Before she could regain her wits, Damon appeared from behind a tree behind her with a noose in his hand. “Alyn isn’t going to knock you out. I’m not going to make it that easy for you.” She heard Jeyne laugh, but she remained unseen. Myranda tried her best to scramble away from Damon, but the world began to spin around her and before long, the noose was around her neck. She felt it tighten around her slim pale neck. “No!” She croaked. But these pale shades of the friends she once knew no longer heeded her words. These were Jeyne’s boys now.   
She clawed at the rope around her throat as they began to drag her over the dead and rotting leaves.

_“Am I dead?”_ Was her first thought as she opened her eyes. The world around her was a blur. _“Please Gods, let me have just died from that damned noose.”_ She thought.  
A tightening of the rope told her otherwise.  
She tried to sit up but found that it was useless. The rope pinned her down and the more she struggled, the tighter it got, threatening to send her unconscious again. She could feel bruises and scrapes down her back from where she had been dragged along the forest floor. She choked out a sob; whether it was due to the fact that she was still alive, or from remembering what it felt like to have the life choked out of her, she couldn’t say. “Don’t do that, you’ll ruin the fun.” She heard Damon say, though it lacked his usually light-heartedness.   
“It’s my turn now.” She turned her head to see Skinner approaching through the trees. These shades lacked the characteristics of their previous owners, so Damon didn’t argue. “Please, don’t do this!” Myranda whimpered, hoping, praying, that there might be a sliver of their former selves left inside of them. They ignored her. Skinner wordlessly knelt down beside her and pulled out his flaying knife. “No, no please!” Myranda sobbed.  
“Stay very, very still Myranda. I wouldn’t want to slip.” He snarled. She felt the cold steel slide up the inside of her thigh. She took a deep breath. She knew what was going to happen. He was just going to cut off her clothes.  
That was why it came as such a shock when she felt the steel slip inside of her.  
Above her screams, she could hear Jeyne’s laughter.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeyne has one more trick up her sleeve that brings Myranda's already broken walls to crash in around her.

She could feel the blood slide out from between her legs. Skinner’s blade must have slid out amongst it as he began to dig it underneath her skin, flaying her thigh messily. He tore her clothes from her body and continued flaying her stomach. She was glad of the noose around her neck; at least it prevented her from looking down at herself. “Please.” She would whimper occasionally, even though she knew her begging was fruitless. “That’s enough, Skinner!” She heard Jeyne call. Skinner immediately stood and walked away. Myranda turned her head to see both Jeyne and Ramsay approaching through the trees. “Reek, build a fire.” Jeyne ordered. “We need to keep the whore warm. He won’t like her if she’s cold.” Myranda heard Reek shuffle off into the trees. Was that a ghost Reek? Was he dead? When had that happened? And what had become of Ramsay? Jeyne seemed to be able to hear her thoughts. “Yes. They’re both dead. Reek got trapped in a car, Ramsay set it on fire.” She smirked.  
“Ramsay would never do that! He loves his Reek!” Myranda protested.  
“What made you think he knew it was his Reek?” Jeyne laughed. Ramsay moved forward, appearing to have not heard the entire conversation. Without a word, he knelt down and spread her legs. Myranda braced herself, waiting for the thrust. What would be more savage, Ramsay or the knife? Before she could find out, Jeyne called a halt to the proceedings. Myranda looked up at her, confused. Jeyne walked around to Ramsay and began to stroke his hair. “I’m sorry my pet, but you won’t get your turn. You’ve had her so many times, I don’t doubt that she’s used to you by now.” Ramsay stood up and moved away, seemingly unfazed that he did not get to have a turn. “Now, we need someone to take your place!” Jeyne announced, looking around the den.   
“Whatever you plan on shoving in me, I don’t care. Kill me and be done with it!” Myranda cried. Jeyne smirked. “You don’t care? Very well then! I welcome you, sir!” Jeyne turned around and stepped back. Myranda could see a large figure approaching through the trees. He did not move quietly. Slowly, his face came into view. “No…” Myranda’s voice was no more than a whimper. “No, Jeyne please, you don’t understand! Please Jeyne! I beg of you! Mercy…please…”  
“You ordered your boys to torment me, terrorise me, humiliate me…and you dare to ask me for mercy? This is no more than what you deserve, whore. Run to your Daddy now.” Jeyne spat. Myranda screamed and looked about desperately. The noose tightened around her. “Have you been a naughty girl Myranda?” Her father asked her. He looked down at her, his dead black eyes filled with lust and malice. “No, please father, I wasn’t…I didn’t!” She gasped.  
“Didn’t what?” He growled down at her.  
“Mother made me do it! She said that if I didn’t, she would kill me! Please father! I didn’t want to kill you…I’m your whore, your sweet loyal whore!” She begged. But her father was as dead to her pleas as he was dead. As soon as his cold hand grazed her skin, he was her master once more.

She cried, like the pathetic little whore she was. Even when Jeyne ordered the men to pull him off of her, she continued to weep. She could still hear him whispering in her ear, telling her of all the awful things he planned to do to her. As he was dragged away, he began to shout them at her until the words reduced to feral snarls and growls. “Well, that was entertaining!” Laughed Jeyne, clapping her hands together cheerfully. Myranda curled up into a ball, muttering to herself, repeating all the things he’d said he’d do, that she’d have to do, just so she didn’t forget. Jeyne laughed again. “Look boys! She’s little more than Reek now! Tell me, what rhymes with whore?” The taunts stung, like the tears in her eyes. When Jeyne realised she wasn’t going to receive an answer, she ordered her boys to hold her down. Myranda didn’t struggle when her master held her head. She stared up into his black eyes and smiled the way he’d trained her to. His grip on her head was crushing, but she had to smile. He liked it when she smiled.   
She never took his eyes off of him. She wouldn’t dare. He’d punish her for it. Or he’d give her to his friends.   
Still, when the knife pierced her skin, her smile vanished. She gasped as she felt the blood rush out of her, then there was a queer feeling of something being inside of her. She felt Jeyne claw at her intestines, tearing them out of her. _Don’t look away. Do not look away._ She told herself. She heard the fire hiss as her intestines were thrown onto the flames.  
As Jeyne readied the blade above her heart, Myranda shed a single tear. “Daddy.” She muttered. “Daddy, I’m scared.”  
She wasn’t sure which hurt the most; the knife, or her father’s smile.


	43. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa returns home, and she isn't the only one that seeks comfort in the walls of Winterfell.

_Home. He’d said she was going home. But he didn’t mean her home. No, she must go there herself._   
_The rain ran down the window; the droplets connecting to create little streams. “They are my tears.” She thought. “The clouds are crying for me.”_   
_Sansa wanted to cry. But she couldn’t. Sansa had been through too much to shed a single tear. Now, she felt only need; a hunger to go home._   
_The bus driver had looked at her strangely when she’d said where she was going. “It’s a ruin girl. You won’t get out of the rain there.” He’d grumbled._   
_“I don’t believe I’d asked for your opinion sir.” She had replied with her Alayne voice on. He’d just nodded. Ros had been reluctant to let her go as well. “He’ll know. He won’t like it.” She’d said._   
_“He’d never hurt me. He said he’d take me home.” Sansa had replied._   
_“Yes, to your new home.” Ros had informed, stacking her papers into boxes._   
_“Wherever that is, it is not my home.” She’d insisted and, not allowing Ros the chance to say another word, she’d grabbed her coat and left. Besides, Petyr wouldn’t even realise she was gone._   
_He had been so busy since that night, he’d hardly had the time to give her a second glance whenever he saw her. She was almost glad he was busy. The sooner he sorted it all out, the better. She wished for no more involvement then she had experienced already. Seeing the bodies had been too much._   
_After she’d found Skinner’s body, she had gone around to Barbrey’s. She shuddered at the memory of the boy clawing his way towards her, begging for her help, parts of skin that had been left flapped messily, releasing more blood onto the ground. “Help me!” He’d croaked. Something was going on, she had known it. All of Ramsay’s gang had been picked off one by one. Barbrey had agreed. But there had been no explanation for the deaths, and Ramsay was hardly likely to kill his own friends. “Roose will know. Believe it or not, he is a good friend of mine.” She’d said. So they’d agreed to go around to the house the next day._   
_The house had been silent when they’d reached it. The front door unlocked. The moment she’d stepped in, she could smell it._   
_Death was everywhere._   
_“Roose?” Barbrey had called. There was no answer. “Wait here.” Barbrey had ordered. But the Starks always found death. They were drawn to it, whether they liked it or not; the Starks liked to dance with death. So she had followed its trail, all the way up the stairs. She sorely wished she hadn’t._   
_She’d found Ramsay lying face down on the bed, his hands and legs tied to the post. It was almost comical, the way the spear was sticking out of his arse…_   
_“Sansa!” Barbrey had cried, her voice full of shock and fear. With one last look at Ramsay, Sansa had come running._   
_The basement was cold and dark. She had almost run into Barbrey on her way down. “He’s in there.” Barbrey had muttered, holding a cloth over her mouth to prevent herself from retching. Sansa found Roose tied to some sort of wooden rack, stripped down to his underpants. His ghost grey eyes regarded her fearfully and he had begun to tremble. “Please.” He’d muttered. “I’ll tell you everything.”_

_It had all happened so quickly after that. When Sansa had tried ringing the local police station, she had been told that no one was able to reach her immediately. A body had been found in a burnt out car and another in the woods, so she had been referred to the station over at White Harbor._   
_Roose, so shaken with fear, literally spat out the truth. All of it. All of Sansa’s suspicions had been correct. When news reached her that Myranda and Theon’s bodies had been recovered, she sent up a silent prayer too every God she could think of._   
_She had eventually begun to wonder whom it was that was responsible for these deaths. With the local coroner in a prison cell, one from White Harbor was brought in. One that didn’t lie._   
_These deaths had been no accident._   
_Her first thought was that it had all been down to Littlefinger. Perhaps he had wanted to help her avenge Jeyne’s death? But he gained nothing from that, well, nothing besides paperwork…_   
_“Oi! Are you deaf? It’s your stop girl!” The bus driver’s voice broke through her thoughts._   
_“I thank you sir.” She said politely._   
_“I’m no sir.” He snapped. She smiled. “What you smirking at?” He snarled._   
_“You just remind me of someone I used to know.” She replied, jumping out of the bus before he could say anything more._

_The pathway was overgrown. Stinging nettles lashed and stung at her legs like the rain did at her face. But she carried on, allowing only a shiver to go through her. The woods thickened around her, the wind howling through the trees. Howling. She stopped, suddenly afraid to go further._ “I’m Alayne.” _She thought._ “Alayne Stone. I should not be here _.” The fear shuddered through her. The trees howled again, as though her pack were around her again. “I am a Stark.” She said out loud. “I can be brave.”_  
 _She continued walking whilst the woods howled around her._  
 _Sansa peered through the trees, imagining she could glimpse little Rickon and Bran running through them. She could almost hear them laughing. In a fit of madness, she laughed with them. The laughter echoed eerily back so she stopped and hurried on, eager to leave the woods behind her. The raindrops plopped down on leaves and made it sound as though an army of Grumkin’s were behind her. “Fool, they only existed in Old Nan’s stories.” She told herself. She began to run all the same._

_The bus driver had been right. It was a ruin. But it was still her home._  
 _The moment she stepped into the walls of Winterfell, she felt warm and safe. Stronger. She was stronger within the walls of Winterfell. Not even the fire that had taken her brothers could take that from her. The wind continued to whistle through the stones but the rain had stopped. Somewhere in the Wolfswood, she thought she could hear singing. “You can’t touch me, I’m home.” She whispered. Picking her way through the ruins, Sansa made her way to the Godswood. She would not dwell here long. Petyr would be back soon. She would say a prayer, in witness of the Gods her father had worshipped, and then she would leave._  
 _She had to thank them, for bringing what little justice they could give. Then she could let Sansa die here, and return as Alayne._  
 _The Godswood had always felt warmer than the air outside of it. Luwin had always said it was because of the closeness of the trees, but Sansa had never believed that. At least she didn’t think she had._ “It was so long ago.” _She thought._

_Once she was standing before the Weirwood tree, she knelt, clasping her hands together tightly and clamping her eyes shut. She had always preferred the Seven, her mother’s Gods. They were prettier. But they had never answered her prayers when she was in the South. The Old Gods had, sending their angels, or whatever they had been, down to bring justice to her family. She smiled at the thought of Theon thrashing about in the burning car. Of Ramsay having the spear shoved up his arse. Of Myranda having her entrails torn out._  
 _She froze when a twig snapped behind her. “Ros? I told you, I’d be fine!” She called, not turning around. It had to be Ros. She must have followed her there…  
_ “I’m a Stark. I can be brave.” _  
She stood up and turned around._  
 _Her breath caught in her throat. The tears that had refused to come before were ready to drown her now. “J…Jeyne?” She gasped._  
 _“Hello Sansa.” Her voice was soft. Sansa collapsed onto her knees and bent forwards, unable to hold herself up. She heard Jeyne hurry to kneel beside her. Her skin felt cold as she wrapped an arm around her for comfort. Sansa clung to her. “How? You…you’re…”_  
 _“Dead? Yes. But you thanked the Gods for your angel, and here she is.” Jeyne laughed. Sansa looked up at her. Her eyes were a deep black. Sansa froze in her gaze and averted her eyes. Something about that gaze frightened her. “Don’t be frightened of me, please Sansa!” She heard Jeyne whimper. Sansa forced herself to look at her. “I…I’m sorry.” Sansa stuttered._  
 _“No, I’m sorry. I couldn’t leave you alone…before they killed me…I swore I could not leave you alone. But they killed me anyway…” Jeyne said the words with a hint of anger in her voice._  
 _“You killed them?” Sansa asked, not sure if she wanted to believe it or not. Jeyne nodded. “I thought it might free me. From this…” Jeyne looked around. Sansa understood. “You’re stuck here?” She asked. Jeyne nodded. “I’m glad you’re here.” Sansa confessed. “Oh Jeyne, I’ve been so alone! They’re all dead, everyone!” She wailed, covering her face._  
 _“I know.” Jeyne muttered. “I can see them.” Sansa looked up._  
 _“What?” She gasped._  
 _“They’re all here. They’re all waiting for you Sansa.” Jeyne said. Sansa heard movement. Through the trees, she could glimpse figures moving. “Would you like to be with your family Sansa?” Jeyne asked. Sansa looked at her. She did. She wanted to be with them again, more than anything. “I do.” She nodded. Jeyne’s cold hand reached out and grasped her wrist. “We will be together again.” Jeyne muttered, smiling sadly._  
 _She pulled out a bloodied knife._  
 _“You and me…”_  
 _Sansa watched the blood begin to pump out of her veins._  
 _“Forever.” Jeyne smiled but Sansa hardly saw as her vision begin to cloud over._  
 _“Forever.” She whispered._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story all the way to the end. Some might not like that ending, but I really couldn't see any other way. I had that vision of Sansa dying in Jeyne's arms and it just felt right. Whether you think Jeyne did it because she's a heartless bitch, without a hint of Jeyne left, or if she genuinely wanted to spend eternity in the afterlife with Sansa by her side is entirely up to you!


End file.
